The Spirit Within: Part One: The Water Tribe Child
by sea-dilemma
Summary: She was an aberration: her mother Water Tribe & her father Fire Nation – orphaned, sent to live with Uncle Iroh & his wife. Come along as the 100 Year War twists & turns, and as destiny pairs her with the only man she will ever love – Prince Zuko. NOT AU - follows series canon! NOW COMPLETE! Seriously, people, REVIEW!
1. Prologue

**Note: This is my Avatar fanfic that has been percolating in my head since season 1. That's right. Season 1. It now stretches HUNDREDS of pages, so, if you like patiently-woven, painstakingly-crafted tales, this is for you.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just sleep in their world. And I thank the creators for so many darn memorable characters!**

**This story begins 12 – 13 years before the beginning of the show and will, eventually, end up when Zuko and the gAang are adults. Many of the show's characters make an appearance – some more than others. There should be easter eggs aplenty here, as well as my twisted version of what was going on in the characters' heads as the stories in the show were unfolding.**

**So hang on to your computers - we are going for a heck of a ride! **

B**y the way, I will turn the "smut" quotient down so as not to offend the kiddies! Part 2 will definitely be T for teen. This one, not so much - after all, it focuses mainly on Zuko's childhood.  
**

* * *

_When I look back now, I see that, from the moment I laid eyes on her, I was enchanted. We were both five, and she had just come to live with Uncle. Lu Ten was ten years older than we were, and Azula, two years younger. _

_Uncle had invited us to Ember Island for the weekend, to meet her. My first glimpse of her was from afar, swimming in the sea – diving and frolicking, "like a duck," said Uncle. "Comes from her mother," sniffed Father. She emerged from the water, small and thin, and it was then that I realized that she had red hair. I had never seen red hair before; those of Fire Nation blood were brown-haired or black. Not red. Never red. Azula, who was hanging behind Mom, tugged on her sleeve. "Her hair is red, Mommy. It's so pretty. It looks like it's on fire." Azula was breathless with excitement._

_I have rarely heard Azula compliment anyone, and most certainly it was the only time she ever complimented Lan Chi._

_Later on in life, when I met Lan Chi again, she would beguile me, like those mythical creatures who lure sailors and fishermen to their deaths with fevered kisses and loving arms. Even now, I sometimes find my thoughts completely possessed by her, when I should be working or concentrating on something other than waves of red hair and large, liquid brown eyes. Such is the nature of enchantment._

* * *

"Stand up straight."

The little girl did as her father bade her. "Yes, Sir."

"Now, you will obey your new governess, correct?"

"Yes, Sir."

At the age of three, Lady Lan Chi Sun was being left alone, again. Her father was about to go back to sea, and, with the death of her mother and baby brother the year before, a governess was about to become both mother and father to her.

"Have you memorized the Fire Nation national oath?"

"Yes, Father."

"Let's hear it, then."

She started slowly. " My life, I give to my country. With my – hands, I fight for Fire Lord Azulon and our forefathers between – I mean _before_ him. With my mind, I seek – ways, ways to better my country. And with my feet, may our March of Civilization continue."

A smile broke from him. "Good girl!" He pulled her in for a hug. "You are a true daughter of fire."

She smiled back. "Thank you, Father."

He set her on his lap. "Can you do a proper Fire Nation greeting?"

She nodded and placed a fisted hand below her upright, open palm. Her father laughed in delight. "What a bright little girl you are, Lan!"

"Thank you, Father."

He became serious. "I am leaving soon, Lan, and I will be gone a long time. But I want you to remember one thing: you are a member of one of the oldest and most illustrious families in the Fire Nation. Never forget that. Never forget who you are. Your ancestor was the youngest brother of the very first Fire Lord, over a thousand years ago. Your aunt Su Hsing will be Queen one day, and your cousin Lu Ten will be Fire Lord after that."

"Yes, Father."

"One day, you will meet the Fire Lord. Do you remember what I taught you to say?"

She nodded. "I humbly serve at the pleasure of the Fire Lord."

"That's right. And never turn your back on the Fire Lord. And when you bow, always get on your knees and put your forehead on the floor."

"Yes, Father. Will I need to do that soon?"

He laughed. "No, I don't think so, dearest. I hope to be back before you ever visit the capital. We will go there together - someday."


	2. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just lurk in the background.**

**Please note that the language that I try to use is a very formal one – more reflective of seasons 1 and 2 Zuko & Iroh than season 3. By the way, many of the names in the story are my lame attempts to be clever in the face of knowing NO Chinese. A cookie to anyone who can figure out my Machiavellian naming schemes!**

* * *

"Father! Wait! Father!"

Fire Lord Azulon stopped on the palace path and waited for his older son to catch up to him. A small smile cracked his weathered face and he clapped Iroh on the shoulder when he caught up.

"Iroh!" He surveyed his son. "You look well."

Iroh, who was puffing from the quick run, laughed. "You mean _fat_."

"I was not going to say that."

Iroh chuckled again. "You may say it, though – it is true."

Azulon began walking. "I've missed you."

"And I you, my lord." Iroh fell into step.

"How are things in the southern colonies?"

"Good. They are good. There is a report waiting for you on your desk."

"Thank you. You are always very thorough."

"A trait I inherited from my father."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"It is not flattery if it is true."

"You inherited your glib tongue from your mother."

Iroh nodded, but was silent.

"Have you heard about Yan Sun?" Iroh asked finally.

Azulon's face was grim. "Yes. A great loss for the Fire Nation. He was one of the best naval men of his generation. How is Su Hsing?"

Iroh shrugged at the question about his wife. "Upset. He was the closest of her siblings in age, and coming upon the death of her eldest sister last year..."

"It has been difficult."

"Yes."

"This is a blow to the navy. Despite the _scandal_, he was much admired. Did he leave any children?"

"A daughter. Four years old."

"Zuko's age."

"I believe so."

"Did you ever meet Sun's wife – the Water Tribe woman?"

"Yes. She was very beautiful. Very beautiful, indeed."

"Well, a man should not be seduced by a pretty face."

Iroh was quiet again.

"I suppose the child will go to one of Su Hsing's brothers or sisters?" Azulon asked.

Iroh blushed. "Well, Father, as to that, I was hoping – I mean, _Su Hsing and I _were hoping to bring her to live with us."

Azulon gave Iroh a sideways glance. "I was expecting you to say that."

"Were you? You know me well."

"I know that family is important to you. And I suppose she is a member of your family. How does Lu Ten feel?"

"He is excited."

"He is too tender hearted. Send him to war so that he toughens up."

This was a frequent argument. "Lu Ten's first campaign will be with me, Father. As mine was with you."

"Harrumph." Azulon snorted. "His first likely campaign will be overthrowing the tea fields in the Earth Kingdom, then."

Iroh laughed, unperturbed. "I have greater things in mind for my son, Father."

His father peered at him. "Ba Sing Se?"

"Four years. It will take that long to amass enough regiments to march."

"Admirable ambition."

"Thank you."

They reached the palace, and Azulon stopped to look at Iroh. "Bring the girl to me when she arrives. I will want to meet her. But mind you keep her under control. The last thing I want is a half-breed child running wild around the palace." He snickered. "Wait until Ozai hears that you are adopting a Water Tribe child. It should be very interesting."

* * *

"Here we are, Lady Lan Chi." The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Fire Palace, and the little girl within peered up at it in concern, and her stomach flip-flopped. It was so big...

Her governess, Mei-Lien, despite the hearty good humor she had tried to infuse her voice with, was concerned as well. She had never been to the capital before, and certainly she had never had any concourse with the royal family! Yet here she was, delivering her charge into the care of Prince Iroh of the Fire Nation!

She glanced over at Lan Chi, dressed in her very best, and her heart broke a little for this poor, orphaned child.

At just barely five years of age, Lan had already had a lifetime of sorrow. She had lost her mother, her unborn baby brother, and her father all within the space of two years. Her father, the esteemed Admiral Yan Sun, who had died earlier in the year, in the service of his nation, was the younger brother of Iroh's wife. As a result of this close kinship, Iroh and his wife, Su Hsing, had agreed to take Lan in and give her back the family she had lost. Indeed, Lan's family, for much of her life, had been her parents' servants. Even after the death of his wife, Admiral Sun had returned to sea, his devotion to his country greater than his devotion to his daughter. As a result of this solitude, Lan was a quiet girl, who would have faded into the background, had it not been for one distinguishing feature: her hair. It was red – a dark, vivid red that rivaled the color of flames. It was said that she had inherited the unfortunate color from her mother's inferior race, the Water Tribe. It was also thought that her hair color was a triumph of fire over water. Some took it to mean that she would be a rather powerful firebender, although, alas, she had no firebending abilities at all. Some even said that the hair was the only manifestation of her Fire Nation heritage, and foretold her _inability_ to firebend. No one was sure how she came by it, but all were certain that it was a result of the miscegenation of her parents.

Mei-Lien grasped Lan by the hand when the carriage door opened, and they both climbed out to find a pair of royal guards, who gawked openly at Lan's hair.

Mei-Lien cleared her throat, and the guards snapped back to attention. "The Lady Lan Chi is here to see Prince Iroh and Princess Su Hsing. I am her governess."

The man nodded. "We were alerted to your arrival, Ma'am. Please follow us. Lady Lan Chi's trunks will be brought to Prince Iroh's family quarters."

"Thank you." She and Lan followed the men into the palace. She tried not to stare at the grandness of her surroundings, but the gold leaf and enameled wood were magnificent to her eyes.

The palace twisted and turned around them until they came to a large set of double doors, which were soon opened by another pair of guards.

They turned left immediately, down a long hallway bordering a tiled courtyard. A large fountain and pavilion shared the center of the courtyard, and they passed through another set of doors into another courtyard, which they crossed. Lan started to drag a bit.

"Is it far, please? Lady Lan Chi is fatigued, I fear."

"Princes Ozai and Iroh each have their own wings, ma'am. It is not far."

They finally arrived at Iroh's private quarters, and, again, a pair of guards opened the doors before them. This time, however, Mei-Lien and Lan Chi were allowed to enter on their own.

The room they entered was not nearly as elegant as Mei-Lien had expected. It was very large, but very homey, with several low sofas and tables, as well as large cushions scattered throughout. Torches flickered on the walls, giving it a welcoming glow. Just then, an older couple entered through a large archway.

Mei-Lien recognized Iroh and Su Hsing from a commemorative tea towel she had purchased years ago. Prince Iroh was of medium height, stouter and grayer than he had appeared on the towel, but with a sparkle in his eye that had been apparent even in cloth. Princess Su Hsing was slim, dark-haired and dark-eyed, still striking even in middle age.

Mei-Lien dropped to her knees and bowed. "Prince Iroh, Princess Su Hsing, it is my honor to meet you at last." She stood and pulled Lan Chi forward. "This is Lady Lan Chi Sun, your highnesses, daughter of your esteemed brother, Admiral Yan Sun. Lan, bow to your aunt and uncle, please."

The little girl bowed obediently.

Iroh looked at his wife, who gave him a concerned glance.

"Can she speak?" Su Hsing asked tentatively.

"She can, although she tends to be – quiet."

"Come here, child." Su Hsing beckoned Lan forward.

With a gentle nudge from her governess, the girl came closer. Su Hsing gently put a finger under her niece's chin, and lifted her face. "Do you know who I am?"

The little girl shook her head, and Su Hsing noted pale skin and dark eyes, like her brother, but a smattering of freckles dotted her face. And that hair. Oh, that hair! What a pity it was not black! Su Hsing smiled softly. "I am your father's sister."

Lan looked at her blankly. Mei-Lien bustled forward, and took Lan by the hand. "I am so sorry, your highness. She has become very shy of late." She hustled her off to a cushion on the other side of the room, and snatched a small book out of her satchel. "Here, read this, Lan, while I talk to your aunt and uncle."

"She can read?" Iroh was pleased.

"Yes, quite well, actually," Mei-Lien came back to them. "She is really very bright." She indicated some cushions close to Iroh. "May we sit?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." They settled themselves quickly. "I hope that I may speak freely with you, your highness – and Princess Su Hsing."

Iroh and Su Hsing exchanged looks, but nodded.

"Good. I want to tell you that Lan is a well-behaved, kind little girl. As you know, she has experienced an inordinate amount of loss in her life. Her brother and mother, and then her father, spirits rest their souls..."

"How has it affected her?"

"I would be lying if I did not say that she has become withdrawn. Although," she hastened to add, "with a bit of love and compassion, I think that you will find her a delight."

"You do not have to sell us on my brother's daughter," Su Hsing smiled kindly. "This will be her home from now on – we will not forsake her."

Mei-Lien pursed her lips. "I am glad to hear that – especially since I am unable to stay with her. But – I feel it is my duty to inform you of an – " she searched for words, "an _unfortunate _habit of Lan Chi's."

"An unfortunate habit?" Iroh was becoming concerned. Was this young girl a firebug – it was not uncommon among young firebenders – they liked to set things on fire just because they _could_.

Mei-Lien looked around nervously, then leaned in towards the couple. "She – well, she – " she dropped her voice to a low whisper. "_Waterbends_."

Iroh and Su Hsing exchanged another look, this of shock. Su Hsing stood and began to pace. "Oh, oh. Oh, dear. Oh, my."

Iroh put a restraining hand on Su Hsing, which stopped her.

"How long has she done this?" He addressed the governess.

"Since right after her mother's death, I understand. She has certainly been capable since I have been with her."

"She was about three at that point." Iroh stroked his beard.

"That is rather young for," Su Hsing pitched her voice low, "_bending_."

Mei-Lien nodded. "Yes, from what I understand. However, I have never been around _those of that proclivity_," Mei-Lien admitted. "I do not know what is normal. I have tried to control her. Indeed, I have succeeded, to a measure. She does not do it in front of others anymore. I told her that it is a _secret_," she threw a look at Lan, who read on, oblivious. "A wonderful secret that she should keep all to herself."

* * *

Iroh and his wife were happy to take in this little girl, red hair, waterbending, and all. They had faced such heartbreak; prior to the birth of their only child Lu Ten, Su Hsing had suffered two miscarriages. After Lu Ten had been born, they had lost another son in childbirth, and two daughters had died while still in their infancy. The little girl with the red hair was a blessing to them in their waning years.

Lu Ten was nearly ten years older than Lan Chi, but he had adored her from the moment he had set eyes on her. She was as fragile as a doll, he said, and all his "older brother" instincts, stifled for so long, were satisfied with her. For her part, Lan Chi worshiped Lu Ten. He was her knight, ready to push her on a swing or teach her how to hold a dagger properly, or simply to read with her. At fifteen, he was a man, nearly ready to follow his father into the army, but putting it off a while longer. He would succeed his father as Fire Lord one day, but knew that day was far off, and that he had plenty of time to go to the war once his new little sister was settled and his mother was ready to let him go.

Lan's _unfortunate _habit was kept a great secret; although Iroh and Su Hsing revealed it to Lu Ten, no one else in the household became privy to it. Lu Ten, to his great credit, accepted Lan's ability with great aplomb.

"How wonderful," he told his father. "To have a waterbender for a sister!"

"That is very enlightened of you, my son," Iroh smiled indulgently.

"Well, this war can't last forever, Father. And when it ends, we should endeavor to accept the other nations. Perhaps, in the pursuit of fellowship, I should marry an Earthbender." He grinned.

Iroh laughed. "Perhaps, but I don't think you should mention that idea to your grandfather!"

Iroh was proud of his son's democratic leanings; Iroh knew that the war would end one day, and that the Fire Nation would have to learn to peacefully co-exist with the conquered peoples. He _was_ certain that, in the end, the Fire Nation _would_ win the war, and he hoped that he could be the Fire Lord to do that, so that he could hand a peaceful world down to Lu Ten.

* * *

Iroh introduced Lan Chi to his father not many days after her arrival. He, Su Hsing, Lu Ten, and Lan Chi all dressed in their best clothing, for a family audience with the Fire Lord was a momentous occasion. Su Hsing had fussed over Lan, putting her in first one dress and then another, fretting over whether her hair should be in a top knot or down her back. In the end, Su Hsing called herself satisfied with a miniature version of her own frock, with Lan's hair in a very conservative braid.

Lu Ten looked very dashing in his dress uniform, and Lan reached her arms to be carried by him. With a loud kiss on her cheek, he swung her up onto his shoulders. "This way you can see the entire palace," he said kindly.

Iroh looked on his son's thoughtfulness with a full heart, and knew that he had done the right thing by bringing Lan into their family. Lu Ten had always seemed a bit lonely, and this little girl seemed to fill the hole that Iroh knew that his son had always had.

When they reached the throne room, Lu Ten put his new sister on the ground and Iroh crouched down to speak to her.

"Now, Lan, you will hold Lu Ten's hand when you walk in. When he stops, you stop, and when he bows, you bow. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Uncle Iroh."

"Good girl. Now, there will be flames between you and the Fire Lord. I promise that they will not touch you. They are just there to look pretty, so don't be scared."

"I won't be. Lu Ten will protect me." She looked up at her cousin, whom she had already decided was more like a brother. "Won't you?"

"All my life, my little duck." He squeezed her shoulder.

Iroh smiled and straightened. He turned to his wife. "Are you ready, dearest?"

She blew a breath out. "As ready as I will ever be. I never get used to these audiences with your father."

Iroh chuckled and kissed her. "One day it will be the two of us up there, and you will be the intimidating one."

She gave an unladylike snort. "Not likely."

"You say that now. Wait and see."

"Oh, I can wait."

Just then, a page came for them, and they entered the throne room.

The throne room was splendid and impressive, with beautifully polished floors, lined with massive columns that seemed to stretch into the sky. The covered throne was of ornate gold, and sat high on a platform, away from supplicants and commoners. Flames rose high before the platform, essentially cutting the Fire Lord off from the rest of the room. Lan's eyes took it all in with wonder as she made her way to the throne. Never had she seen anything so glorious.

The adults all dropped to their knees and bowed. Lan belatedly joined them, although, as her father had taught her, she pressed her forehead to the ground.

Azulon's brows rose, pleased. At least this child showed reverence, unlike Ozai's two rapscallions! "You may rise, my children."

Iroh, Su Hsing, and Lu Ten all did as he bade. Lan Chi stayed on the floor.

Lu Ten chuckled. "Come, Lan. You may stand and look on the Fire Lord."

She scrambled up and stood at attention, her arms ramrod stiff at her sides.

Azulon ran his eyes over her. "She appears well-behaved, Iroh."

"Yes, my lord."

Azulon turned his attention to his grandson. "Prince Lu Ten, it appears that your new sister knows how to greet her Fire Lord. Do you?"

Lu Ten grinned and ran forward. The flames died down instantly, and he ran up the stairs to embrace his grandfather, who had stood to accept the hug.

"I have missed you, Grandson."

"As I have missed you."

"Your studies have kept you very busy."

Lu Ten pulled away to smile down at his grandfather, now shrunk in old age. "But you will be very pleased, I think, at my progress."

"I am always very pleased with you, Lu Ten. I am less pleased with your father, who insists that you need a few more years at home before leaving for the war." He gave Iroh a dark look. "When I was your age, Prince Lu Ten, I had already been at the front for a year."

"Ah, but you are extraordinary, Grandfather. I can never hope to live up to the standards you have set."

Azulon waved a weary hand at his grandson. "You inherited your grandmother's grandiloquence – like your father. Now get back to your family and try to give me the respect I deserve as the Fire Lord."

Lu Ten sensed no malice in his grandfather's words, and laughed. "Yes, my lord." he dashed back down the stairs to stand next to Lan Chi.

Azulon sat again, and beckoned Lan Chi forward. "Let me see her, Iroh. Bring her here."

Iroh took Lan Chi's cold hand and escorted her to the throne. Her heart started to beat wildly. She was meeting the Fire Lord! Even at five years of age, she knew the importance of such a thing.

She looked at Azulon for a brief moment, took in the gray hair, the deep wrinkles, the crown, and the peculiar smell of camphor, and immediately dropped to her knees again.

Azulon, although secretly delighted, gave no indication of his pleasure. Instead his eyes examined her. "Hmm. Red hair. I thought that must just be a rumor. Apparently not." Although he spoke aloud, he was addressing no one in particular, and Iroh wisely remained silent.

After a long silence, Azulon turned to his son. "Does she bend?"

Iroh's heart skipped a beat. "No, my lord. She shows no signs."

Azulon frowned at Lan. "Pity. Yan was such a talented bender. One of the best in your class, as I recall, Iroh."

"Yes, Sire. Several of his records still stand, from what I hear."

Azulon nodded, and looked at Lan again. "Stand up, child." He made a standing motion with his hand, and Iroh gently pulled Lan up. She looked directly at Azulon, and he nodded again. "I knew your father, girl. A great man. We miss him."

"Thank you, my lord."

"You are now living in a palace. _My_ palace. It is a great honor, you understand."

She nodded.

He watched her for a long moment. "Lu Ten is now your brother. Are you pleased by that?"

Lu Ten! Her favorite subject. "Oh, yes, my lord! He is the best brother in the world, and one day he will be Fire Lord, and he will be the best Fire Lord ever!"

Iroh blushed and put a hand on Lan's shoulder in warning. Su Hsing's hand covered her mouth, although she could not contain a gasp of dismay.

Azulon looked shocked and turned to Lu Ten. "You have a champion, Prince Lu Ten."

Lu Ten was red, as well. "Yes, my lord."

"Mind you keep her close. Nothing ill can befall you with devotion such as hers near, I'll warrant."

Lu Ten smiled. "Yes, Sir."

Azulon waved them all away. "Go now. I am tired. Iroh, I will see you at midday for the meeting with the western colonies governor. An abysmal man. I cannot abide him."

Iroh bowed and he and Lan Chi descended the stairs, although Lan insisted on backing down slowly.

The three adults bowed and turned to leave. Lan Chi, however, pulled away and threw herself on her knees again. "I humbly serve at the pleasure of the Fire Lord."

Iroh, Su Hsing, and Lu Ten all looked thunderstruck. Azulon, for his part, looked at her for a long moment, then began chuckling. "Did you teach her that, Iroh?"

"No, my lord. I frankly have no idea how she learned it."

"Well, she surely showed you the proper way to show reverence to the Fire Lord. Perhaps she can give you lessons." With that, he went off into whoops of wheezing laughter. "Go on! Go on!" He waved them away and wiped tears of mirth from his eyes.

* * *

Not long after Lan Chi had received Azulon's blessing, Iroh invited his brother Ozai and his family, wife Ursa, son Zuko and daughter Azula to the Summer Palace on Ember Island to meet Lan. Although the entire extended family lived together in the vast palace in the capital, the building was large enough that the families could literally go days and weeks without seeing one another – which suited the brothers well, as they frequently were at loggerheads about many things, including the war.

Lan Chi was only a few months younger than Zuko and two years older than Azula, and Iroh hoped that she would get along with the Prince and Princess, since she really had no other playmates her age. Azula, at four, was already showing signs that she would one day be a powerful firebender, although, much to Ozai's disappointment, Zuko had shown no talent in the area. He could perform only rudimentary firebending skills, such as creating a flame in his hand, but was either uninterested or unable to demonstrate further prowess.

Ozai was uncomfortable with the thought of his children associating with the child of a mixed marriage, but with no valid reason other than that, he knew that Iroh would not be pleased with him for snubbing his ward. So he gritted his teeth and welcomed the mongrel child.

In the late afternoon on the first day of the visit, prior to dressing for dinner, Iroh and Ozai settled down across from each other at a low table, next to long windows that looked out on the shore. Outside, the children played, sometimes quietly, sometimes with loud squeals. Ozai watched them, jaw clenched.

A maid brought a pot of tea, and Iroh thanked her. He poured both himself and his brother a cup.

Ozai ignored his. He crossed his arms. "How can you bring that _half-breed_ into the palace; into our family?"

Iroh looked at him over the edge of his cup. "She is already a part of our family."

Ozai sniffed and looked back out at his children frolicking with Lan Chi. "She may be a part of _your_ family. She is not a part of _mine_."

"Your intolerance for the other nations does not serve you well, brother."

Ozai did not answer. Instead, he stared pugnaciously out at the children frolicking in the surf.

"When this war is over, we must be able to govern _all _the people, Ozai."

His brother laughed. "You really think that this war will be over in _our_ lifetime?"

"I know it will be. And I will be depending on your help with the other nations."

Ozai's brows shot up. "_My_ help? Are you exiling me to the Earth Kingdom to govern those _savages_? Or will you send me to waste away in the North Pole?"

"It is not exile. I will need someone I can _trust _to govern the colonies. And you must not think of them as savages. Both nations are proud and noble people."

Ozai was silent at the criticism.

"Think on it, Ozai. Is it not easier to get things out of people when they _want _to give it?" At his brother's stubborn expression, Iroh sighed. "We cannot continue the war at this pace. We are being bled dry. Taxes are higher than they have ever been, we cannot produce all the food we require – neither for the army nor for the civilians. Something _must_ change."

"So what is your magnificent plan to end the war?"

Iroh pointed at his brother. "The key to ending the war is Ba Sing Se."

"We've always known that."

"Yes, but knowing that we must conquer the city and accomplishing it are two different matters. And _we_ must accomplish it. I want Lu Ten to inherit a peaceful world, Ozai. Not one constantly out of balance and at war."

"How do _we_ accomplish it?"

"It will require a massive force, Ozai. Many lives will be lost. But many lives will be _saved_ by our success. If we can convince the Earth King that there is nothing to be gained from opposing us, and much to be lost, we will have won, Ozai. Once the Earth King has surrendered, the Water Tribes _cannot_ stand alone. We shall have brought the entire world together under the Fire Nation flag. We will have restored _peace_."

Ozai frowned. "You are being naïve, brother. The other nations will _never_ accept us. They are jealous of our superiority."

"We are neither superior nor inferior to other nations."

"We _are_ their betters. It is because of this that we were able to defeat the Air Nomads; it is why we are so close to winning the war."

"_Close_ to winning the war is not the same as winning the war."

Ozai stood up and strode to the window. With his back so straight and stiff, Iroh though that he looked much like their grandfather. He hoped that Ozai was more broadminded than Sozin, however.

"I wonder if Father knows of your _egalitarian_ leanings, brother."

"He knows that the war cannot go on endlessly."

Ozai turned to face him. "It will go on until we have exterminated the other nations and have absorbed their countries into our own."

Iroh's fist came down on the table, causing the teacups to jump. "We _will_ not exterminate the other nations! There can _never_ be another atrocity like the airbenders!"

Ozai's brows lifted. "I did not know that you were so passionate about preserving the ways of foreigners, Iroh. You think that their culture should supersede our own?"

Iroh sighed wearily. "I think that we must learn to co-exist peacefully with the other nations, Ozai. That is what I _think_."

He stood and strode from the room. Ozai stared out at the ocean for several minutes, trying to quell the anger and resentment in his heart. Iroh was patently unfit to be Fire Lord. Left to him, the Fire Nation would probably surrender the occupied territories and offer the other nations an apology. Iroh was a fierce and brave warrior, it was true, but he did not have a _killer's _instinct – he was more like their gentle mother, Ilah, than like their father. Ozai drew in a long breath. How much better everything would be if he, and not Iroh, had been the first born. But there was nothing to be done about that. Iroh was the heir, and nothing could change that.

He felt an odd sensation tickling him, and he turned, finally, and started. His brother's ward stood in the other doorway, watching him with wide, knowing eyes. He was discomfited by her gaze, and, with a growl, he exited the way of his brother.

Ozai stomped outside in search of Ursa. He found her building a sandcastle with Zuko while Azula played in the water. His frown increased.

"Can't that child build a sandcastle by himself, for spirits' sake! Must he cling to you at all times?"

Zuko looked at his father blankly, then burst into tears.

Ursa shot him a dark look, and gathered Zuko into her arms. "You are in a foul mood, Ozai! Must you take that out on the children?"

He bristled at the reprimand. "You baby him, Ursa. He'll never be a real man if you continue to coddle him."

"A real man? Ozai, listen to yourself! He is not even _six _years old!"

"More than old enough to start attending the Royal Fire Academy. I started when I was four!"

"And look how well you have turned out!"

Small fire daggers appeared in Ozai's fists for a moment, then dissipated, although not before Ursa had seen. Her eyes grew wide for a moment, and she stood, snatching Zuko into her arms. "Azula, come! It's nearly dinner!"

Her daughter obediently followed, although she cast a confused look at her father.

* * *

Dinner was a strained affair for the adults, although Iroh and Su Hsing attempted to smooth over the difficulties amongst all the parties.

After the children had been put to bed, Ursa returned to the room she shared with her husband. He was already in bed, reading. She gave a deep sigh, and climbed in. "Ozai," she began, "I'm sorry."

He put down the book, although he did not speak.

"It was unkind of me to condemn you for something that was not your doing."

There was silence a moment longer. "I only want the best for Zuko; you know that."

Her lips compressed. "I know that you do. We disagree on what is best for him, unfortunately."

Ozai turned away, and Ursa could see a muscle tick in his jaw. She impulsively laid a hand on his arm. "What is truly bothering you, my love?"

"My brother," Ozai admitted. Ursa remained silent, so he continued. "He has decided to exile me." At Ursa's indrawn breath, he gave a bitter smile. "It is not what you think, although it is, in effect, the same. He wants me to take over governance of all the colonies."

"Ozai, that is wonderful! That is a huge honor!"

"Honor? How could you think that? He is trying to push me out! He wants me away from the capital – away from Father! He wants me to have no say in the war effort. He is trying to poison our father against me!"

"Iroh does not do that, darling. He does not indulge in palace intrigues."

"Why do you take his side in this?"

"I am not taking his side. I am on your side – always! But I do not think that there is any venom in Iroh's actions."

"I will not be banished to the Earth Kingdom! I spent four years of my _life _chasing the avatar. I will not let Iroh send me away again!"

"You cannot blame Iroh for that. He was at war when your father sent you away."

Ozai looked down at his book, truculence on his features. "Things would be different if I was the first born."

"But you are not. And I, for one, am grateful." She gently turned his face to hers. "I would not like to share you with the Fire Nation as Su Hsing shares Iroh. Our life is so much easier than theirs. And if we are sent to the Earth Kingdom, we will go – as a family. You will be the greatest governor the colonies have ever had, and we will be happy."

* * *

"My flower, I have had a thought."

Su Hsing put down her book to stare warily at her husband. "Your thoughts concern me sometimes, my love."

Iroh smiled sweetly. "This thought should put you at ease."

"Oh, yes?" She was still leery.

"I have been thinking of Lan's future."

"How forward thinking of you, my dear. She has only been with us a month."

"Well, those who fail to plan, plan to fail."

"Indeed. Tell me," she shifted to face him fully. "What plans have you made for her?"

"I think that she would be a perfect consort for Zuko."

"Iroh, you are a scoundrel."

The scoundrel in question grinned at his wife as he pulled back the covers to climb in bed. "My dear, what can you mean?"

"You are an inveterate matchmaker."

"Zuko and Lan will make a wonderful match."

"And you can tell this how?"

"Observation."

"Observation of two small children playing in the sand?"

"They play well together."

"Well, I admire the spirit of your plan, dear, but isn't Zuko's marriage a subject for Azulon?"

Iroh's smile grew. "My father can't be bothered with the betrothal of the _fourth_ in line to the throne."

"He arranged our marriage. And Ozai's. And he will arrange Lu Ten's, won't he, when the time comes?"

"Yes, of course, but Lu Ten is in the direct line of succession. It falls to the _first_ in line to the throne to arrange the marriage of all those not close to the succession."

"But Ozai –"

"Ozai was second in line when my father betrothed him to Ursa. Besides, you know he needed a connection to Roku's family."

"And you were already taken."

"Exactly."

"But you are to arrange –"

"The marriages of Zuko and Azula, and Lan Chi. And Lu Ten's children, when he has them."

"My, my. You will be busy."

"Did I tell you that my father has approved the adoption officially? The paperwork came today."

Su Hsing smiled and cuddled up to Iroh. "We have a daughter now."

"Without all the fuss of pregnancy and diaper changing and midnight feedings."

"Hmm," Su Hsing became thoughtful, remembering Lu Ten's baby days. She snapped out of her nostalgia. "So you, clever husband, will kill two birds with one stone by betrothing Lan to Zuko."

"It's perfect. You know it has always been my intention for Zuko to be Lu Ten's minister one day, and – "

"Shouldn't you let Lu Ten decide that?"

"It is always best to have a family member as your most trusted advisor."

"As Ozai is for you?" Su Hsing asked nonchalantly.

Iroh chuckled. "Good point. Still, Zuko is no Ozai."

"Thank the spirits for that!"

"And his mother."

"Yes. Ursa's influence is very apparent in Zuko." She shook her head. "It is not as apparent in Azula."

"Azula is, for better or worse, her father's daughter."

"You should find a nice boy for her. A calm boy."

"Yes, I shall. One who lives somewhere outside the capital. I fear Azula will someday be corrupted by the political intrigue should she remain. She has not as strong a moral compass as her brother appears to be developing."

"Had Ozai grown up outside the capital, do you think he would be different?"

"I think, had our mother lived, he would be different. As it stands, he is very – troubled."

They were both silent for a moment, then Su Hsing spoke. "I wonder what Ozai's reaction will be to you betrothing Zuko to a girl who is half Water Tribe."

"We won't tell him just yet."

* * *

The next day, the weather was again fine, and Iroh and Su Hsing decided that a picnic on the dunes was in order for the children. However, as preparations were completed, Su Hsing found that she was fatigued, so Iroh set out with Ursa and the children. Lu Ten and Ozai had opted to stay at the palace and train together, which pleased Iroh. He knew that Ozai's firebending was peerless, and that Lu Ten would profit from such an exercise.

As the party climbed the dunes, the children ran ahead, Zuko and Lan in front, and Azula, with her shorter legs, bringing up the rear. Zuko reached the top of the dune and grabbed Lan's hand to hoist her up the final feet. Azula needed no help, though, and sprinted past Lan to reach the top before her.

"Look at Zuko," Iroh nudged Ursa. "How chivalrous he is!"

She smiled. "He seems taken with Lan Chi."

Iroh smiled mysteriously.

The adults reached the top of the dune and and stopped to admire the view. Ember Island and the ocean were spread out below them, sparkling in the strong spring sun.

"What a beautiful spot!" Ursa exclaimed.

"Let's sit here, shall we?"

Iroh and Ursa set out the picnic, and called the children over to eat. The three of them settled down; Zuko and Azula, their appetites whetted by their long walk and their playtime, ate with gusto, although Lan Chi was not as enthusiastic.

Iroh pushed a sweet bun into Lan Chi's hands. "Eat, little duck. You are much too thin."

"Mama, why does Uncle call Lan a duck? Does she lay eggs?"

Iroh chuckled at Azula's questions. "No, little one. I call her that because _her_ mama was from the Water Tribe."

Azula drew back in horror. "Water Tribe? But they are our _enemies_! Papa said so!"

Lan watched Azula with sadness, and Ursa put a hand on her shoulder. "Lan is not our enemy, Azula. She is a member of our family now."

"But how can she be a member of our family if she is from the Water Tribe?"

"Families can be made up of all sorts of different people, Azula, darling."

Azula seemed to accept that, although she continued to look at Lan Chi a bit suspiciously.

Iroh slapped his thighs. "Come, children. I will race you to the bottom of the dune." He jumped up and took off, and the children followed quickly.

Ursa watched them with a wistful smile on her face. Iroh seemed so natural with children. She wished that Ozai was like that. He never played with his children. In fact, he never spent time with the children at all unless firebending was involved. Zuko's poor bending was a sore spot for Ozai – secretly, Ursa believed that Ozai was disappointed in his son.

Zuko reached the bottom first, followed by Lan and Azula. They stood and cheered as Iroh puffed to the bottom of the dune.

"Well done, Prince Zuko!" He said, grasping the boy's shoulder. "You are very fleet of foot!"

"Thank you, Uncle!" Zuko bowed.

"Can we race to the top of the next dune, Uncle?" Azula jumped up and down, clapping her hands.

"By all means, Azula! Lead on!"

The little firebender took off, whooping as she began running up the next dune. Zuko followed, but Lan stayed with Iroh, slipping her hand into his.

"Uncle?" She asked quietly. "Am I your – enemy?"

"What? Oh, of course not, little duck."

"But Azula said –"

"She's just a baby, Lan. She doesn't understand."

"Oh." Lan looked unconvinced, but another thought came to her. "Uncle? Should I call you _father_, as Lu Ten does?"

"If you would like – but you need not. I am pleased to be called _Uncle_, if that is your preference."

"Well, I have a mother and a father, even though they are in the spirit world."

"Very true."

"And I can only have one mother and father. But I can have lots of aunts and uncles."

"Yes, indeed." He smiled.

"But may I continue to call Lu Ten my brother? Because I can have lots of brothers, can't I?"

Iroh tried to be serious. "I think that he would like that."

She smiled back at him, and Iroh impulsively drew her into a hug. "You are a dear little girl, Lan Chi." He pressed a kiss into her hair. "Why don't you catch up with Zuko and Azula? I am certain that Azula wants to play with you. Zuko, too."

"Yes, Uncle." She obediently ran after them.

Iroh walked, rather than ran, up the dune. Zuko stood at the top, watching his sister and Lan as they picked flowers and tumbled down the other slope. Their laughter came back up the hill.

"Why aren't you picking flowers with the girls, Zuko?" Iroh asked, laying a hand on his nephew's shoulder.

"Picking flowers is only for _girls_, Uncle!"

"You say that now, young man, but there will come a day when you will pick flowers, happily, for the girl you love."

"Yuck!"

Iroh laughed. "Why don't we pick flowers for your mother, then?"

* * *

At the end of the weekend, as his brother's family pulled away in their carriage, Iroh hoisted Lan Chi onto his shoulders so that she could see them out of sight.

"Did you like meeting Zuko and Azula, little duck?"

She nodded and he lowered her to the ground. They turned for the house. "Uncle Iroh," she said, "if you are my uncle, and you are also Prince Zuko and Princess Azula's uncle, does that make them my cousins?"

He thought for a moment. Although there was no blood between himself and Lan Chi, nor between Lan Chi and Ozai's family, he did not see the harm in letting Lan Chi think that they were her cousins.

"Would that please you? If they were your cousins?"

"Oh, yes," she had answered with innocent enthusiasm. "Because Lu Ten is my cousin, too, and he is the person in the world I like the best! So cousins must be very good to have."

He smiled and put an affectionate hand on her head. "Then they are your cousins."

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you are enjoying this. I currently have 5 chapters COMPLETELY done, so I will post them once they have passed my rigorous storytelling standards. If you think this is going slow, just think of it this way – at least you haven't been living with these chapters for five years, as I have...


	3. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just wash dishes at the Jasmine Dragon.**

* * *

There would be few chances for Lan Chi to play with her new cousins. Ozai and others in the royal household thought it unseemly for a child half Water Tribe to be living in the palace, but Iroh's powerful ally – his father, Fire Lord Azulon – kept those protests at bay. However, although Azulon allowed Lan Chi to live in the palace, that did not mean that he wanted to see her at his table on family occasions, so Iroh and Su Hsing wisely left her at home, which did not trouble Lan in the least.

Ozai certainly did not want his children around Lan Chi, and frequently found reasons to keep them apart; Azula was sick, or Zuko was punished, or they were involved in their lessons. Once, Azula and Lan Chi were allowed to play together, but it did not end well, and the play time was not repeated.

At first, Iroh was angry, but his wife's gentle common sense convinced him that it was not a subject worth fighting over.

Lan also faced problems from outside the family, as well. Her red hair was frequently remarked upon, often in a snide or condescending way, especially when her parentage was revealed. Therefore, her aunt and uncle, who had come to love the little girl as much as a child born of their own bodies, took to keeping her at home. It was not that they were ashamed of her; on the contrary, they were proud of her wit and intelligence, which she had displayed from the start. However, they knew that she was aware of the stares and whispered comments about her, and they wished to spare her pain. Still, despite the cruelties of the outside world, they became a happy family, the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, his wife, their son, and the little red-haired girl born to a Water Tribe mother and a firebending father.

Lan Chi thrived in this home. Thanks to Iroh's library, she read voraciously, especially when Lu Ten was training and she was bored. She loved the tales told in the ancient books – the books so old that they preceded even the great Fire Lord Sozin. Books that spoke of the balance of the world and the elements, and of a time when all the nations lived in harmony. Lu Ten and Iroh encouraged this interest – Fire Nation history, even centuries old, would be valuable to her one day. She also studied the old texts that talked of great Avatars of the Fire Nation – men and women so magnificent that they mastered all the elements and presided over the mortal realm. But she would not read about the war – any time she came upon a passage about it, she would put that book down and go on to another.

She also showed an interest in learning about the other cultures, of which Iroh had approved, hoping to give her, as he had given his own son, a well-rounded view of the other nations. She was especially interested in her mother's people, and found the stories of their traditions and rituals fascinating.

She found a volume on the history of Ba Sing Se, the great Earth Kingdom capital, to be particularly interesting, and studied that for an entire month. She also learned about the erstwhile Air Nomads, although, when she learned their fate, she put that book down, too.

She asked Lu Ten questions constantly, since he was obviously the wisest and smartest of all the people in all the world, and she trusted his word implicitly.

"Lu Ten," she asked one day as he studied ancient military campaigns, "how exactly did the war start? I mean, I know that Sozin defeated the Air Nomad army, but _why _did he think the Air Nomads were going to attack us?"

Lu Ten looked thoughtful for a moment. He knew, from extensive study, that the history that was taught was not the complete truth – or, for that matter, the truth at all. "Well, I'm not certain that Sozin _did_ know that the Air Nomads were going to attack. You see, the Fire Nation had been, and still is, of course, a very prosperous nation, and Sozin thought that he should spread the influence of the Fire Nation beyond our borders. This was not a very popular decision outside the Fire Nation."

"Why wouldn't everyone want prosperity?"

"Ah. That's a good question. Because, along with the prosperity Sozin was offering was Fire Nation governance."

"Governance?"

"Sozin wanted to rule the other nations."

"Oh. And they didn't want him to rule them."

"Right."

"Why did he want to rule the other nations?"

He folded his arms along the table in front of him. "Because Sozin was a man who thought himself a god. And because the avatar at that time was a god who thought himself a man."

"I don't understand."

"The avatar should have stopped Sozin from trying to take over the world. And he did not. So the war was started. And so it continues to this day."

She was puzzled. "Don't you support the war, Lu Ten?"

Lu Ten sighed. "Little duck, I support our nation, so I will fight in this war, and I will try to win it. But I do not think that the war is right. It is wrong – in so many ways. I hope that answers your questions."

She nodded, although she was more confused than ever.

"And Lan, please don't repeat this conversation to anyone. It would not do for the future Fire Lord to be defaming the war effort." He winked.

"No, Lu Ten. I won't."

* * *

As to bending, Lan Chi, for her part, heeded the warnings that bending should be done only in private. Iroh's library, fortunately, had several volumes on basic waterbending, so she was able to to train in the hours she was alone.

About two years after she came to live with them, Iroh's wife was taken ill. Su Hsing had begun to feel tired all the time, and, alarmed, Iroh had sent her off to the Summer Palace on Ember Island, to enjoy the bracing sea air and recuperate away from the stresses of the capital city. He sent Lan Chi with her, for companionship, and Lu Ten spent much of his time there as well. Unfortunately, her condition worsened, and doctors found a suspicious lump under one of her arms. They had seen this before, in her family particularly, and were certain that, like her mother and aunts before her, it would turn out to be a fatal illness.

Iroh and Lu Ten were understandably devastated by this diagnosis, but it was Lan Chi, a child who had known much death already, who would not accept the verdict. She spent hours and hours in her aunt's company, sewing and reading and oftentimes just holding her hand, and, frequently, time spent thusly seemed to bolster her aunt's health.

Su Hsing held on until a few weeks after Lu Ten's eighteenth birthday, and Lan, the child who had lost so much in her life, lost the only mother she ever remembered. She was just eight. Lu Ten, who had never known death, decided that he should begin training in earnest for the war. Lan Chi returned to the city to live full-time, and she soon began dogging Lu Ten's every move. She watched him as he practiced his bending and hand-to-hand combat, and she continued to sit in the library with him while he studied old battles and the art of war. After a while, Lu Ten asked her if she would like to train with him.

"Since you are there, anyway," he laughed.

She turned shining eyes to him. "Oh, can I, Lu Ten? Do you think Uncle Iroh would mind?"

"Mind? No, I am quite certain Father won't mind. In fact, I think that he would be very pleased."

"And will the royal tutors instruct me?"

"Of course. Aren't you a member of the royal family?"

She thought this over. "No. Not really. I'm not related to the royal family by _blood_, you know."

He laughed at this. "Yes, you are."

She scrunched up her nose. "I am?"

"Am I not second in line to the throne?"

"Yes. Right after Uncle Iroh."

"And aren't you my cousin?"

"Well, yes."

"Someday I will be Fire Lord, and since you are related to _me_ by blood, that makes you part of the royal family. And so you are entitled to the royal tutors. Besides, aren't you related to the first Fire Lord somehow?"

She nodded. "So Master Piandao will teach me?"

"Would that please you?"

"Would it? Master Piandao is the greatest swordsman in the Fire Nation! Not better than you, though." She hastened to add.

Lu Ten laughed. "No, I assure you, Master Piandao _is _the greatest swordsman in the Fire Nation. By far. But I am gratified that you hold me in such high esteem."

She impulsively hugged him. "Thank you, Lu Ten. You are the greatest brother of all time!"

"And you are the greatest little sister – of that you may be certain." He put her away from him and looked at her seriously. "Are you certain that you would not rather attend the Royal Fire Academy for Girls?"

A look of horror came over her face, which caused him to laugh again.

"I take that as a no. You are not tempted, even though Azula attends?"

She frowned. "I don't think Azula likes me very much."

"Why would you say that?"

"Do you remember the time she set my hair on fire?"

"I do seem to recall that." He tried to suppress a smile. "As I _also _recall, you pushed her into the duck pond in retaliation."

Lan smiled slightly. "That may have been an accident."

"It did not look like an accident." He was grinning broadly now.

"Well, then, I shall have to try harder next time to make it appear accidental."

* * *

She began seriously training in hand-to-hand combat, and, although she was not a firebender, she learned the fluid movements of firebending. She practiced constantly with forms and she studied theories, even after lessons had concluded each day; she wanted to prove to Lu Ten and to Iroh that their confidence in her was well-founded.

She began to learn the proper use of weapons such as the dagger, the jian and the guando from Piandao, although few in the Fire Nation learned techniques of all three. She also began archery training alongside Lu Ten with the Yu Yan Archers, a legendary group whose members could easily hit a bullseye at 500 paces. It was at this that she excelled. She had a fine and steady hand and a steely concentration, and, after only a few months, she had progressed past many older students. She admired the philosophy of the Yu Yan Archers greatly; their tenets of loyalty, camaraderie, and bravery spoke to her. Iroh had a target set up in the courtyard of the family's private apartments, and Lan spent hours improving her skill. She was determined that, as an adult, she would become a full member of the Yu Yan, and she knew that would require unmatched devotion and proficiency.

Hour after hour she practiced, until she could land one bullseye after another. Iroh noted her skill and was pleased.

"Bravo!" He clapped after she had successfully hit the bullseye a half a dozen times.

She grinned, flattered. "Do you think that I will be good enough to be a Yu Yan Archer someday, Uncle?"

"I am certain of it, Little Duck. I applaud you for your dedication to it, but tell me – why do you want to be a Yu Yan?"

She gave him a look of incredulity. "Uncle! Everyone knows that the Yu Yan Archers are the greatest in the world. They guard the Fire Lord. They even swear an oath to the Fire Lord that they will protect him _unto death_! It is an _unbreakable oath_!"

He chuckled. "Well, I know that, dearest. But tell me, why do _you_ want to become a Yu Yan Archer?"

She looked puzzled. "Because I want to defend you and Lu Ten, of course. I want to take an oath to defend you unto death."

"Oh, Lan." He opened his arms and she ran into them.

* * *

One day, late in the afternoon, when Prince Zuko was practicing with his swords in the courtyard, he heard a repeated "thwack" coming from the area beyond the tall hedges that bordered his family's private area. He approached the hedge and listened closely. The sound was repeated.

Curious, he peered through the branches, only to find a sturdy wall between him and the mystery. Frustrated, he searched for footholds, and started to scale the bush, grateful that the hedge was not thorny. He was able to pull himself up until his head was over the top, and peered over.

He recognized Lan's hair first. No one else had hair that color. She was standing, legs apart, with a bow and a quiver of arrows, aiming for a target far on the other side of her own courtyard. He watched her for a few minutes, admiring her technique.

"Hssst!" He tried to get her attention. "Cousin Lan! Over here!"

She stopped, startled, and her shot went wild. She glanced around anxiously.

"Up here!" He called in a loud whisper.

She spun around and finally found him. "Prince Zuko! You scared me!"

"You shouldn't allow yourself to be distracted, you know."

Her face became thunderous. "You shouldn't try to distract me! I have a bow and arrow in my hands, you know!"

"I know. What are you doing?"

She turned away from him, and drew another arrow. "Practicing archery, ninny."

He took no offense at her insult. "Can I try?"

She let the arrow fly, and it landed within the bullseye.

"Wow," he breathed. "You're good."

She smiled and lowered the bow. "I guess you can try."

He grinned, scrambled over the wall, and dropped gracefully to the ground. He came running over and stood next to her as she released another arrow. Under his scrutiny, she missed the bullseye, although it still landed on the target.

"Do you really train with the Yu Yan archers?"

She lowered the bow. "Yes. Do you know how to shoot?"

He ignored her question. "Are they really cool?"

She looked at him. "Who?"

"The Yu Yan archers, silly." He scratched his nose.

"I don't know. I guess."

"Why do they paint their faces?"

"It's so the sun doesn't reflect on their faces during the daytime and blind them." Her voice was authoritative. "It also prevents them from being seen by the enemy."

"Oh. Do you wear it?"

"No. It's only worn during battle."

"Why is it red?"

"It represents the hawk, whose eyes the archers possess." She recited with pride.

"Wow." Zuko breathed in awe.

Pleased, Lan blushed. She thrust the bow into Zuko's hands. "Here. You can try."

He took an awkward stance and pulled the bow string back. "Can I have an arrow?"

"What? Oh, yeah." She held out an arrow, but he didn't move.

"Can you um, load it for me?"

"Load what?" She was puzzled.

"The arrow."

"Oh, okay." She fit the arrow into place while he maintained his stance.

He pulled back the bow string, then released it, sending the arrow wobbling through the air, falling far short of the target.

He lowered the bow in disappointment. "That was terrible."

"Haven't you ever shot before?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay. Let me show you." She moved Zuko around until he was in a proper stance. She took an arrow from the quiver and slid it into place. She then guided his fingers into the proper positions, and stepped away.

He shot the arrow, and it landed on the target, although wide of the concentric circles. He whooped in joy. "I did it!"

She smiled. "That was great."

He looked at her, astonished. "Really?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

He smiled shyly. "Thanks."

"Why don't you study archery? Don't they teach that at the Royal Fire Academy?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't go there."

"Why not?"

"Mom says that I get a better education from the royal tutors."

"Doesn't Azula go to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls?"

"Yeah."

"Why does she go if you don't?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. She wanted to go because her friends go there."

"Oh."

"Why don't you go to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls?"

"I didn't want to. I wanted to train with Lu Ten."

"Oh." He handed the bow back.

"So why don't you study archery?"

"I study swordsmanship."

"Oh! Are you good at it?"

He smiled. "Yeah." He had a sudden inspiration. "Do you want to see?"

"Sure."

"Wait here." He ran off through the gate in the fence that divided their living areas. Lan walked over to the target to retrieve the arrows.

After a few minutes, there was a knocking on the gate. "Lan!" He hissed. "Open up."

She ran over and yanked open the gate to let Zuko in. He had a pair of dao swords clutched in his hands.

"Wow. Those are nice."

He held them out at arm's length and examined them briefly. "Thanks. They belonged to my mom's grandfather."

"Can you _really_ use them?"

"Yeah. Of course! Step back."

She obeyed, and Zuko took a step back as well. He held out both swords at arm's length apart and spread his feet wide. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and started moving through a series of forms. The swords flashed in the sunlight as his arms swung around, tracing intricate patterns. Lan thought she could almost hear the whistling of the blades as they cut through the air.

He finished the forms, brought the swords together in front of him, swung them in a wide arc, and sheathed them.

Lan's hands were over her mouth in wonder. She jumped up and down and clapped. "Oh, Zuko! That was wonderful!"

A huge smile spread across his face. "Really?"

"Oh, yes! Really!"

He colored painfully. "Thanks."

"Prince Zuko!" Zuko's tutor, a young man named Feng, in search of his pupil, had followed the sound of voices and found the two children together. Feng, whose main goal in life was to secure a permanent position on Ozai's staff, knew that Ozai did not want either of his children to associate with the Water Tribe girl, even if she was half Fire Nation. That knowledge may have caused him to speak sharply, and the children jumped guiltily.

Feng's face twisted. "What are you doing here?"

"I – I was just showing Lan –"

Zuko was cut off as the tutor grabbed him by the arm and shook him. "Lan? How dare you be so familiar with her? She is _Lan_ to you, is she?"

"No! Lady Lan Chi! I meant Lady Lan Chi!"

Lan's eyes were wide with horror.

Feng shook Zuko again. "You know you are not supposed to be here!"

Zuko's head bobbed back and forth like a rag doll's and Lan shrieked. She grabbed the tutor's arm. "No! Let him go! Let him go!"

He ignored her, so she kicked him, hard, in the shin.

"Ouch!" He turned his attention to Lan. "You little half-breed!" He shoved her away, and she sprawled on the ground, crying.

Zuko snatched his arm from the tutor's hand and pulled the swords from their sheath. "Leave her alone!"

The tutor's pupils constricted, first from fear, then from anger. "You will pay for that!" He snarled, then grabbed Zuko's wrist and yanked him forward. The swords dropped from the young man's grip and clattered onto the ground. With one hand still gripping Zuko's wrist and one hand scooping up the swords, Feng dragged his crying charge through the gate.

Lan watched them for a moment, then scrambled up, yelling for Iroh. She dashed back into the house and into his study, where she found him at work. Between sobs, she poured out the tale to him. A muscle in Iroh's jaw twitched, and he wiped her tears away.

"All will be well, duck. I will take care of it. Now go find the housekeeper and have her look at that scrape on your elbow."

Lan nodded. "Don't let them hurt Zuko, Uncle. It's my fault he's in trouble." Her eyes welled up again.

"I will take care of it." He repeated, smiling. "Now, go." He gave her a gentle push, watching until she had gone. The smile disappeared, and he rushed out, headed for Ozai's quarters. His brother's guards came to attention as he pushed past the doors, and he turned towards where he knew Ozai's own study was. The door was partially open, and he could hear voices, as well as Zuko crying. He thrust the door open to find his nephew standing before his father's desk, his face pressed into the inside of his elbow.

Ozai and the tutor abruptly stopped speaking when they saw Iroh. Feng bowed, although Ozai truculently crossed his arms over his chest.

"Feng," Iroh addressed the tutor, although his eyes were on Ozai, "please take Prince Zuko to his mother."

Although Feng threw a look at his employer, he obeyed, taking Zuko, still sniffling, by the hand. As they left, Iroh stopped the tutor. "Should I hear that you have laid another hand on my nephew, you will have _me _to answer to."

Feng nodded slowly, and they were gone. Iroh quietly closed the door behind them. "Tell me that you disciplined that young man."

Ozai went behind his desk and sat down. "To whom are you referring?"

"Feng. This is not the first time that I have heard of his abuse of Zuko."

"Abuse? He is _teaching_ Zuko what he needs to know."

"And what exactly is it Zuko needs to know that is taught with a fist and a shove?" Iroh leaned over his brother's desk menacingly.

"Zuko is in dire need of self-control, among other things. He was told not to leave our courtyard."

"He didn't run off to Ember Island, Ozai! He opened the gate and walked through to my quarters."

"And how, exactly, did you learn of this, Iroh? Did the little Water Tribe mongrel carry the tale to you?"

Iroh's face turned red. "You are my brother, Ozai, and I love you, but it seems _you_ are need in self-control. You will never refer to Lady Lan Chi with that term again – ever. Do I make myself clear?"

Ozai's eyes were slits. "Yes, _Brother_," he snarled.

Iroh straightened. "You will dismiss Feng from his position. Tomorrow I will send Master Piandao to you to continue Zuko's swordsmanship. Zuko will thrive under his tutelage, I am certain."

* * *

Several hours later, Ozai found Ursa waiting for them in their private sitting room. Ozai sighed when he saw her thunderous expression.

There was no preamble. "I want you to get rid of Feng."

He shook his head. "Absolutely not. He's loyal." He threw himself down onto a low sofa, and snapped his fingers for tea. "To me, not to Iroh or my father. And that, my dear, is priceless."

Her lips thinned out mutinously. "He hit Zuko."

Ozai stared at her without speaking.

"And," she went on, "what's worse, he hit Lady Lan Chi. A child over whom he has no authority."

He shrugged. "They probably deserved it."

"Ozai!"

He waved his hand at her as a maid brought him a pot of fresh tea. "It's of no consequence. Master Piandao will be in charge of Zuko's education from now on. Iroh is seeing to it." His lip curled as he poured a cup for himself.

Ursa relaxed. "Piandao! Ozai, that's wonderful. He is one of the best sword masters in the Fire Nation!"

"And he's Iroh's man, so I'm certain that Zuko will learn all about rare teas and pai sho."

"You should not judge Iroh so harshly. I am certain that he has only Zuko's best interests at heart."

"My brother has his own best interests at heart. He is trying to turn my son against me."

"Don't attribute such malice to Iroh." She reached for the tea pot, but he caught her wrist.

"Do not fool yourself, my darling. Iroh was not given the title of _dragon_ for nothing. He _earned _it."

* * *

"Prince Zuko, I am Master Piandao."

Zuko bowed solemnly. "I am honored to meet you."

Piandao smiled kindly, although Zuko, still prostrate, did not see it.

"I understand that you had some – difficulty with your previous tutor."

"Yes, Master. It was entirely my fault."

"What has happened in the past shall have no bearing on our relationship. I will judge you on your actions from this point on. Is that acceptable to you?"

Zuko's heart leapt with hope. "Yes, Master."

"May I see your swords, please?" Piandao held out his hand.

Zuko unsheathed the swords without raising his head and handed them to his new tutor. Piandao accepted them with reverence. He inspected them closely. "I know these blades."

"They belonged to my maternal grandfather."

"He was a great hero of the Fire Nation."

Zuko had never heard any information about his mother's grandfather. When his mother had given him the swords, on his eighth birthday, she had said that she would tell him the tale when he was older. "Thank you, Master."

"So, Prince Zuko, are you ready to learn the ways of the sword?"

He finally lifted his head and looked at Piandao with shining eyes. "Oh, yes, Master! More than ready. I want to be the greatest swordsman in the Fire Nation."

"That is a very noble ambition. You do your mother's family proud."

* * *

Author's Note: Just to let you know, I take everything as canon. In other words, if something has been referred to or shown in the series or in the official comics, you may assume that it is true in this tale. However, if something has been left unanswered or ambiguous, I let my imagination run amok. And it can get gnarly inside my head, let me tell you.

The only exception(s) to my rule (isn't there always one?) is/are parts 2 and 3 of the new comic "The Promise," since they haven't come out yet. I hope it doesn't screw my story all up, since I have woven a net so tightly that an octopus cannot squeeze through the tiniest hole (get that reference? Anyone? Anyone? Good!).

Also, if a character is likely to have lied (hello Azula and Ozai – I'm talkin' 'bout you!), I have taken that and have run with it.


	4. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just wash the gunk out of Appa's toes.**

* * *

Not long after Lu Ten's nineteenth birthday, Fire Lord Azulon, with Iroh's counsel, decided it was high time for the Fire Nation to redouble its efforts to capture Ba Sing Se, the Earth Kingdom capital city. He decided to send Iroh himself, who had proven his worth as a military commander many times over. Iroh would be architect and executioner of the plan. Iroh, after much study of past campaigns, had decided that brute strength was the only way to break through Ba Sing Se's seemingly impenetrable walls, and so he had assembled a force of more than 10,000 soldiers to storm the city. Lu Ten would accompany his father; this would be Lu Ten's first campaign, and, as second in line to the throne, he was automatically given the rank of lieutenant and assigned a platoon of firebenders.

When Lan Chi found out that both her uncle and cousin were going to the front, she begged to be taken along. She could be of use, she reasoned with Iroh. She could make his tea; she could wash his clothes – as well as mend them, and Cook had been teaching her how to make her uncle's favorite dumplings. And, she reasoned, she could help Lu Ten as well. She could polish his armor, since it was likely to get sooty from the firebending, and an earthbender might throw a rock at him, and she could probably buff out any scratches that resulted.

Iroh laughed. "A battleground is nowhere for a young girl like you, little duck!"

"Why not? Colonel Shinu has said I am one of the finest young archers he has ever seen. I can hit the bullseye of a target at 100 paces."

Iroh seemed to consider this for a moment. "Can you? How wonderful. However, be that as it may, the front is a very dangerous place to be, even for someone as battle-grizzled as I."

"But you're taking Lu Ten, and he has never been in battle at all, either."

He shook his head. "Lu Ten is a man of nearly twenty, and the future Fire Lord. It is expected that he go into battle. Besides, his platoon consists of all very highly regarded firebenders – very experienced in combat. He will be fine."

"But if his platoon is so experienced, then I should be safe with them."

He chucked her under the chin. "All of your arguments are very well-thought out. Very admirable attempt. But I cannot let you come along with us. A girl of only eight years–"

"I'm nine now."

"That's right. Nine. My mistake. Still, a _child _of just nine, boy or girl, does not belong on a battlefield." He frowned at her fallen face. "You can help me, though, by seeing to it that my favorite tea blends are packed. I do not think that I can conquer Ba Sing Se on inferior tea."

The day of their departure approached, and Lan secretly hoped that, in the end, Iroh would relent and allow her to accompany them, but he was adamant.

* * *

The night before his departure, Lu Ten found her sitting on her old swing, still attached to the strong branches of a cherry tree in the enclosed courtyard. She was idly swinging her foot back forth, staring at the ground.

He came over to her. "Why do you look so sad, little duck?"

"Because you are leaving."

"I will be back right after we secure Ba Sing Se."

"That could take a long time. Uncle Iroh said so."

He smiled and settled down on the ground next to the swing. "Or it could be very quick. When the Earth Kingdom army sees that it is the Dragon of the West who has come for them, they may surrender in fear!"

She smiled at the thought of her gentle Uncle inspiring fear. "And you. When they see that the great Lu Ten has come."

"Exactly."

"You should have a nickname, like Uncle Iroh."

"Yes, I should. A ferocious nickname would be good. 'Here comes Lu Ten – the _Lizard_ of the West!'"

She laughed. "How about the Tigerdillo of the West?"

"Hmm," He stroked his smooth chin. "The _Tigerdillo _of the West. I like that."

"Would you wear orange and black stripes?"

"Well, that _would _stand out on a battlefield. Maybe that's not the best idea, though."

"I guess you don't have to wear anything special. Uncle Iroh doesn't wear scales."

"Very true. Then it's settled. I am now officially _The Tigerdillo of the West_."

They laughed together, but Lan Chi's happiness melted away quickly. "I don't want you to go."

"You just don't want me to go because then there would be no one to push you on this swing." He stood up and started to do that. She went high in the air.

"I am worried about you." She said as she came back down.

"Don't be worried. Father has assigned me to an old and renowned battalion. It will be like having twenty personal bodyguards. Besides, every Fire Lord of the past century has been a war hero. Do you want to deny me that?"

"Yes." Back into the air.

"It is the Fire Lord's duty to lead his troops into battle. I would not be my father's son if I chose to stay home just to push my little sister on the swing."

Tears started in her eyes, and Lu Ten stopped the swing. "Don't worry. I will be fine. I promise. And the day that I get back, I will spend the entire afternoon pushing you on this swing."

"I'll be too old." The tears were streaming down her cheeks now.

"You're never too old to swing. Look." He pulled her from the saddle and hopped on the swing himself, even though the branch groaned under his weight. He pushed off and went soaring, pumping his legs to gain altitude and momentum.

Lan Chi clapped her hands in delight. "You're going so high!"

"I can almost see the spirit world from up here!" He shouted from the pinnacle of the arc. "Hello, Moon Spirit! Hello, Sun Spirit! Hello, Spirit Who Will Watch over Lan Chi while I am gone." He jumped off the swing as it flew forward again, and landed elegantly.

The tears were back in her eyes. "I love you."

The smile melted away from his face, and he opened his arms. She rushed into his embrace. "I love you, too, my little duck. Sister of my heart."

* * *

After Iroh and Lu Ten's departure, Lan's days continued in a pattern: training with Piandao and the Yu Yan Archers in the mornings, followed by academic studies with a number of royal tutors after lunch. Each afternoon she was free to pursue her own interests. She spent the time writing letters to her uncle and cousin at the front and practicing her bending. Always conscious that her bending must remain very much a secret, all of it was done in her locked room, using scrolls and books from Iroh's vast library. She was progressing well for someone who had no master to teach her. Her techniques were rough, and many of them were improvised, but she could make and control a small wave, move water around the room, and turn water into ice.

She had discovered many years before that she could heal with water. She thought that it was a unique ability, but found, in one of Uncle's books, that it was rather common amongst women of the Northern Water Tribe. She attempted to hone her skills at this, but, without wounds to heal, she found herself at a loss. She remedied this problem by cutting herself with a dagger and healing those wounds. She also learned how to heal burns by holding her arm over a candle flame until it blistered. Although she wondered at the wisdom of this method, she knew that there was no other functional way to improve her healing skills.

However, although she stayed rather busy with training and bending, she had to admit that she was lonely. Iroh's housekeeper, Hua, was her main caretaker and her main companion, and, although she tried her best, Hua was no replacement for Lu Ten or Iroh.

Zuko and Azula were, of course, still off limits, although Lan did occasionally see them in the palace. Zuko she saw sometimes with Ursa, sometimes with Piandao, and sometimes alone. He always raised a brief hand in greeting if their eyes met, although he nearly always stole a glance around him after dropping his hand, to determine whether anyone had seen his forbidden overtures at friendship.

Azula, however, made no such attempts at friendliness. She had not for several years been kind towards Lan, and indeed seemed to delight in ridiculing or torturing the other girl. She had willing companions in her friends Mai and Ty Lee, two girls of good families who attended the Royal Fire Academy for Girls with the Princess. The three were nearly inseparable, with Azula as the obvious ringleader and the other girls her toadies.

Ursa, with her mother's heart, often thought about Lan Chi. She knew that the little girl must be desperately lonely and in need of companionship. With Iroh gone, Ursa realized, the thing that Lan Chi needed most was a _mother_. She resolved to visit Lan as soon as she could.

She was able to visit Lan Chi was about a month after Iron and Lu Ten had left. She was escorted into the sitting room, and Iroh's butler went to fetch Hua, who was in charge of all of Lan's needs.

The older woman came bustling into the room, wiping floured-caked hands on her apron.

"Oh, Princess Ursa! How sorry I am that I am greeting you looking like this! You see, Cook took a spill yesterday, and she has broken both her wrists! So _I_ am in charge of the kitchens until she returns. And cooking is _not_ my specialty. I manage the household, not bake the bread and churn the butter! Oh, I am at my wits' end!" She threw her dusty hands in the air.

Ursa smiled kindly. "I take no offense, Hua. I just came to see how Lan Chi is getting on – with Iroh and Lu Ten gone."

Hua's shoulders sagged. "I am ashamed to say that I have barely seen her since all this happened. Poor little thing got shifted aside. I have to cook for _fifteen _people now!"

"Hua, why don't you send over to my kitchen for the undercook, Bao? She really only works part-time for us. I'm certain that she would be able to lend you a hand."

"Oh! Oh, my lady! Thank you! Thank you so much!" Hua was about to hug Ursa, but suddenly remembered her place, and bowed instead.

"It is no problem at all, Hua. Now, would it be all right with you if I sat with Lan Chi awhile?"

"What? Oh, no, no – I mean _yes_! Please do – Lan will be delighted to see you! Shall I get her? I believe she is in her room studying."

"Oh, no, Hua, don't bother yourself. I don't mind going up. Do you think she would mind?"

"Mind? Of course not! Our Lan Chi is all that is polite – she will love it!"

With directions to Lan's room, Ursa mounted the stairs.

Lan's door was at the end of the hallway, and Ursa knocked on it softly. There was no answer, so she knocked again, louder. There was a clatter and a crash inside the room, and Lan Chi abruptly jerked the door open. She jumped back a moment when she saw Ursa.

"P-princess Ursa! What are you doing here?" She blushed. "I – I mean, hello, my lady." She bowed. "Please come in."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Ursa smiled soothingly.

"No. No, of course not. Please come in." She moved aside to allow the older woman entry.

Lan's room was that of a typical girl – dolls lovingly arranged in families on shelves, ribbons and other fripperies on a low vanity table, and shelf upon shelf of books.

"I – I am so sorry that I didn't hear you immediately. I – I was – sleeping."

Ursa's eyes strayed to the neatly made bed, but she smiled. "I am so sorry to disturb you."

"No disturbance at all, my lady. Really. Please, sit." She indicated a large cushion on the floor, which Ursa lowered herself onto gracefully.

There was a book lying open on the floor, and Lan hurriedly grabbed it and shoved it onto a shelf, but not before Ursa had seen the illustrations of waterbending on the pages.

"I – I am studying the water benders right now. Uncle insists upon it – since I may be called upon some day to fight them."

Ursa inclined her head. "Very wise of your uncle. It is always better to be prepared."

Lan sat on another cushion. "Yes. He says that." She smiled.

"Lan, do be careful. I think that cushion is wet."

Lan jumped up, flustered. "Oh, yes. I – I spilled a glass of water on it – earlier – when I went to answer the door..." she trailed off. She flipped the cushion and sat again.

Ursa smiled again, although she saw no empty glass nearby. "Of course. I _am _sorry that I barged in on you like this. Your room is your _private_ area, of course, and you _should_ be allowed freedom here – of all places. You should feel free to be yourself in your own bedroom."

Lan watched her closely, and her words were a long time in coming. "Thank you for understanding, Princess Ursa."

"And your secrets are your own, Lan, to disclose as _you_ see fit." She smiled. "Please remember that anything that we talk about here, or that I see, will stay here."

Lan's face was serious. "Thank you, my lady. I do appreciate that."

Ursa smiled more widely, and folded her hands in her lap. "On to other topics. I came to find out how you are doing, Lan, since we do not see much of you in the rest of the palace. How are things with you, dear?"

Lan's lonely world unfolded under Ursa's kind ministrations, and Lan felt much better after revealing many of the things that she had kept to herself: her worries about Iroh's and Lu Ten's safety, her loneliness, her desire to excel in all the subjects that Iroh had left her studying, her desire to prove herself worthy to join her family at the front, her sadness that she had lost so many members of her family and missed them. It came pouring out of her, and Ursa comforted her and bolstered her spirit as much as she was able.

When she finally left, Lan parted from her with real regret, although Ursa promised that she would visit her more often.

After the door closed behind the princess, Lan raised a shaky hand to her forehead. Although she had genuinely enjoyed Ursa's visit, she had been terrified when she had realized someone was knocking at her door. She had been practicing waterbending and had been so involved in the movements that she had not even heard the sound. In her surprise and haste, she had dropped the water she had been bending and had left the waterbending book out.

She was almost certain that Ursa had guessed her secret, but she was also fairly certain that the older woman would keep it. For that, she was immeasurably grateful. If her secret came out, there was no telling what might happen.

* * *

Ursa had indeed deduced that Lan Chi was a waterbender, but was resolved not to betray her. Besides, it was not as if Lan was a threat – to the Fire Nation or anyone in the royal family. Or to anyone at all, for that matter. She was just a lonely little girl who needed someone to talk to. And Ursa was determined that she would be the one who Lan should turn to in the absence of Iroh and Lu Ten.

Ursa could well understand Lan Chi's loneliness in the palace. She herself had come to live there more than a dozen years before, and the first two years had been unbearably lonely for the girl from a small island in the western Fire Nation. She had come to the capital only a few weeks prior to her marriage, which had been arranged by her father and Azulon when she was only thirteen. Luckily for her, she had been attracted to Ozai immediately. Three years her senior, he seemed impossibly sophisticated and wise, and she was smitten. He was very attentive to her in their early days together, but, still, lack of female companionship in her life had been difficult. Ozai's mother was long dead, and Su Hsing and Lu Ten had been following the drum with Iroh, so, other than servants, Ursa had no one to confide in.

Things had improved when she had given birth to Zuko – she did not have time to be lonely, and Zuko filled a spot within her that she had not known had been empty. Ozai, too, had seemed content beyond words, and with the addition of Azula to their family two years later, her life seemed complete.

However, as the children had grown, and as Azulon had aged, Ursa began to sense a _restlessness_ in Ozai that she had never noticed previously. He became dissatisfied with his place as second son, doomed never to inherit. He became more and more jealous of Iroh, as well as more distrustful of not only his brother but almost everyone around him. He found fault with the children, and although Azula did not escape his wrath, Zuko took the brunt of their father's criticism. It was mainly for that reason that Ursa had insisted that Zuko be educated at home rather than boarding at the Royal Fire Academy. Although Zuko could have escaped much of Ozai's disapproval, he would also have been subject to the bullying that Ursa knew went on there, and Ursa did not want her son to have to face such turmoil and pain so early in life.

She suspected those same reasons prevented Iroh sending Lan Chi to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. Spirits knew that the child had enough turmoil and pain to last a lifetime! It seemed kinder to provide a private education for her.

Ursa had a thought come to her suddenly. Zuko and Lan Chi were of an age – why should they not be educated together? It seemed a logical way to provide Lan some companionship, and it would do the same for Zuko. He really had little contact with anyone his own age – only Azula, and occasionally, Azula's friends.

Ursa resolved to talk to Ozai about the idea that night.

After dinner and after the children had been put to bed, Ursa found Ozai in his office. She stopped in the doorway and smiled at him. "You always work so hard."

Ozai lifted his head. "I am still trying to prove to my father that I am capable of handling all of Iroh's duties." He put down his quill. "But I think I can stop long enough for my beautiful wife."

She came gliding into the room and he stood to take her in his arms. His lips were firm and cool, and she felt the familiar fluttering of desire deep in her core. Whatever their disagreements, this facet of their marriage had always been satisfying. More than satisfying.

He pressed kisses along her cheekbone and down her neck. "Shall we go to our chamber?"

"Yes." She murmured. "Oh, yes."

* * *

An hour later, Ozai and Ursa lay together, spent. He idly ran his forefinger up and down her arm, which caused a shiver of awareness to go through her. He chuckled and kissed her lightly on the shoulder. "You are responsive to even the lightest touch, my darling."

She smiled contentedly and stretched. "Only your touch."

"I am glad."

She turned in his arms to face him. "I wanted to ask a boon of you."

"Hmm."

She lifted her hand to draw it through his hair. That was the first thing she had noticed when they had met all those years ago: he had the most thickest, most beautiful hair that she had ever seen. "I saw Lady Lan Chi today."

Ozai stiffened, and his hold on her loosened. "Does the favor you ask relate to her?"

She ignored his question. "She is so lonely, Ozai. She has no one but Iroh's servants to bear her company."

"At least she is not living on the streets. Iroh has provided a good home and education for her. More than her kind deserves."

"Her kind?" She pulled away slightly.

"Water Tribe, Ursa."

"Ozai, surely you are not condemning her because of that."

He sighed aggrievedly. "What is this favor you are asking of me?"

She compressed her lips for a moment before speaking, trying to work up her courage. "I think that it would be good for her – and Zuko, if they did their schooling together. They work with the same tutors, after all. It just makes sense."

Ozai's response was immediate. "No. Absolutely not."

"Whyever not?"

"I do not want that half-breed anywhere near my family."

"Do you think she would contaminate Zuko by her very presence?"

"My answer is no. I do not want _you_, Zuko, or Azula consorting with her. "

She pulled out of his arms and turned to face him. "Consorting! She is _not_ the enemy. She is a little girl! Why do you hate her so?"

"We have been at war with the Water Tribe for over a hundred years. Did you think that I would embrace one of them simply because my foolish brother took her in?"

"Do you hate her because she is Water Tribe or because she is Iroh's?"

His jaw set. "There will be no more discussion. She will not study with Zuko because I said so."

She was incredulous. "Because you _said_ so?"

"Because I am Zuko's father." He amended.

"And I am his mother."

"I am prince of the Fire Nation."

"Is this to be gamesmanship, Ozai? I am the granddaughter of the avatar."

He laughed mirthlessly and got up, sliding on a robe. "That is saying less than nothing. Roku has been dead over a hundred years."

"So your answer is _no_, then?"

"A vehement _no_."

"And if I say _yes_?"

"Then, _my darling_," the word used as an endearment earlier became a sneer, "I will see to it that Zuko completes his education as a boarding student at the Royal Fire Academy."

Her eyes narrowed. "You would not dare."

He came over and chucked her beneath the chin. "Would you care to test your theory, dearest?"

* * *

Lan Chi's greatest comfort during this time was the mail she received from Iroh and Lu Ten at the front. Lu Ten wrote almost weekly, although Uncle Iroh's letters were a little less frequent. _Conquering a whole nation takes a lot of time_, he told her in his first letter, _so please don't think that I have forgotten you just because I do not write regularly. You are always on my mind, and I look forward to the day that the three of us can be reunited._

One of Lu Ten's first letters from the Earth Kingdom came about a month after his departure. It was a thick parcel, and she unwrapped it with care. Inside were two pieces of wood, and sandwiched between the wood were miniature portraits of Lu Ten and Iroh. Lan Chi covered her mouth. The pictures were perfect – they captured the twinkle in Iroh's eyes, and showed Lu Ten as she knew he wanted to be seen: the serious heir to the throne. Her cousin's picture was inscribed by him in the upper left corner. _To My Little Duck: See you after we win the war. Your loving brother Lu Ten_. Tears came to her eyes. She missed them so much – almost more than she thought she could bear. The letter that accompanied the pictures was from a Lu Ten eager for war – eager to prove himself, eager for glory.

_My Dearest Duck,_

_I hope that you like these drawings. It was our great luck that we bivouacked, on our first night in the Earth Kingdom, in a town with a market. An artist had a stall there, and I insisted that Father and I sit for portraits. You may notice some blurriness in father's picture. He did not want to sit still, and the artist joked that the result was more of a "motion picture."_

_We are well, and hope that you are the same. The men in my battalion are all battle hardened, and they have promised me that I will not get a scratch on me, which I told them will comfort my sister greatly. I told them, however, that I would like one **small** scratch, lest people believe I was at a spa rather than at war. When I return, I shall be certain to show you the scratch. _

_All of my love always,_

_Lu Ten, your devoted brother_

Most letters from Lu Ten were in that vein – he knew that joking about his experiences would bring Lan some peace, and he enjoyed writing them. They were insouciant and carefree, things that were both in short supply, and forcing himself into the mindset of writing them did him good.

Most letters from Iroh were prosaic. He asked for tea or a favorite robe, or for her to have more underclothes commissioned and sent to him.

Lan, for her part, wrote twice a week without fail, despite the fact that she really had little to write about other than training. However, a frequent subject of her letters was an entreaty to allow her to join them at the front. Iroh, invariably, declined these requests. Although she had grown while he was gone, he had pointed out, she was still just a girl of only nine.

"I'm ten," she sniffed when she read his reply.

Frequently accompanying Iroh's and Lu Ten's letters were other small gifts for Lan. A beautiful stone from a southern Earth Kingdom town where they had camped, a silk scarf from a seaside market, a lovely piece of calligraphy penned by a grateful Fire Nation colonist – all found their way home to Lan, and she displayed them all proudly.

* * *

One day a string-tied package came for Lan from her uncle, and she tore into it with excitement.

_My Dearest Little Duck,_

_I hope that this note finds you well. As I mentioned in my last letter, we have finally broken through the outer wall of Ba Sing Se. It is quite a feat, which, although boastful, is also true, since the wall is at least fifteen feet thick! Lu Ten insisted upon keeping a piece of the wall as a souvenir, which he has included. He promises to send you enough pieces to make your own wall – which I have cautioned him against, since I know that the palace post man is at least 75 years old!_

_I have included something a bit more decorative – a beautiful pendant that a traveling peddler sold to me. It reminded me so of you, and I am certain that you will like it. Please wear it and think of me toiling in the hot sun, drinking the last dregs of the ginseng tea you sent me. That reminds me, please send some more. My staff has taken a liking to it, and I find my supply almost gone!_

_Until we meet again, darling niece, please know that I carry your image in my heart._

_Your devoted uncle,_

_Iroh_

She lifted a small bundle of paper from the box and unwrapped it. Within was a delicate gold chain with an exquisitely carved golden turtle duck hanging from it, its shell enameled jade. Lan drew in her breath. She unclasped the necklace and put it on. It was a pleasant weight around her neck, and she pressed it against her skin with a small smile. It was easily the most beautiful thing she had ever owned.

She continued unpacking the box and found Lu Ten's piece of wall and two letters from him. The Lu Ten of old, jovial and insouciant, was apparent in the first letter that she opened. He told a humorous story of a private in his regiment who thought that going over the wall meant literally going _over_ the wall of Ba Sing Se, which caused her to smile.

The second letter was addressed to Prince Ozai, with a small note included from Lu Ten asking her to walk the missive over to his uncle. _It seemed expedient_, wrote Lu Ten, _to include it with your package rather than to post it separately_.

Lan Chi grimaced. The last thing that she wanted was to deliver _anything_ to Ozai. Still, it was a little enough task that Lu Ten asked of her, and the very least that she could do.

Two guards stood sentry at the entrance to Ozai's family residence. Lan Chi approached them slowly. "Please, Sirs, I have a letter from my cousin Prince Lu Ten for Prince Ozai."

"We can take it for you, my lady." One of them held out a hand.

She shook her head. "Thank you for your offer, but Prince Lu Ten has given it into my keeping. If you could please escort me to Prince Ozai's office, I would like to leave it there."

"Very good, my lady." One of them bowed to her and they set off through the chambers. At what Lan presumed was Ozai's office, he rapped on the door.

Lan was taken aback when Feng, Zuko's former tutor, opened the door. He caught sight of Lan, and sneered. "What is this _girl_ doing here?"

Lan was determined to deliver the letter without incident. "Pardon me, Sir. My cousin, Prince Lu Ten, enclosed a letter for Prince Ozai in a package that he sent me." She held the letter out, and the disagreeable young man snatched it from her fingers.

"Why would Prince Lu Ten send something to _you_ to deliver to Prince Ozai? Did you open it?"

She ignored the malice in the accusation. "No, Sir. Could you please give it to Prince Ozai?"

He sniffed. "The prince is with the Fire Lord right now. I will give it to him when he returns."

Lan, relieved that she did not actually have to see Ozai, bowed. "Thank you, Sir."

Feng stepped back into the office and slammed the door in Lan's face. She sighed and looked at the guard, who seemed shocked at Feng's attitude.

"I would like to return to my quarters now, if you please."

"Yes, my lady. Of course." He pointed at a far door. "That will take you back via the courtyard. There is a set of double doors through there that connect your quarters to Prince Ozai's. It is actually a short cut. Would you like me to escort you?"

Lan smiled. "No, thank you. I should be able to find my way."

The guard bowed, and was gone.

Lan opened the door quietly and peeked through. Spread out in front of her was the courtyard of Ozai's family quarters, with a pavilion and a pond in the middle. A covered walkway encircled the courtyard, and doors lined the walkway – much like it was in Iroh's residence.

She saw a set of large double doors on the other side of the courtyard, and guessed that those lead to her own quarters.

Just then, Prince Zuko, who had been playing by himself near the pond, saw her.

"Lady Lan Chi!" He called, and lifted a hand to get her attention. He began to run towards her, and she obediently waited for him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"I was delivering a letter from Lu Ten to your father."

Zuko's smile died. "Is my father around?"

She shook her head, and he visibly relaxed. "No. He's with the Fire Lord."

"Oh, good. Hey, do you want to see what Uncle sent me from Ba Sing Se?"

She nodded, and he presented a small dagger in a sheath, which he held out to her.

"Wow, Zuko, that's really nice." She withdrew it and examined it closely. "Never give up without a fight."

"Uncle said it was presented to him by the general who surrendered the outer wall."

"Have you shown it to Master Piandao?"

"Not yet. Do you think he'll show me how to use it?"

"I'm certain that he will."

"Do you know how to use it?"

She nodded. "Master Piandao thinks that a dagger is a perfect weapon for a girl, so I've been training with them for a while. He says it's better for me to learn how to use a dagger than the dao swords."

"Oh. Well, I use the dao swords all the time."

"You must be really good with them now." She handed the dagger back.

Zuko puffed with the compliment. "I am. Master Piandao said that, one day, I will be better than him."

"Wow! Master Piandao said that? You must be really good."

Zuko smiled shyly. "Thanks."

An awkward silence fell, until Zuko broke it. "Did you get anything from the front?"

"Yeah. Lu Ten sent me a piece of the wall."

"A piece of the actual outer wall of Ba Sing Se? Cool!"

"And Uncle sent me a necklace. Look." She leaned forward so he could see it better.

He slid his hand under the pendant to peer at it. Lan, unused to the feel of fingers on her skin, shivered.

"Beautiful," Zuko said quietly.

Lan shifted her eyes to look at him and noticed that he was staring back at her, his pale golden eyes unsmiling and serious.

"Ooh, Mai, look! I think _Zuko_ likes Lan Chi!"

Zuko whirled and Lan looked up, the moment gone. "Shut up, Azula!" He yelled.

Azula and her friends Ty Lee and Mai stood there, watching them. Ty Lee had a hand to her mouth, giggling. Mai looked thunderously at Azula.

"Yeah, Azula, shut up!" She fisted her hands at her sides.

"Why? It's perfectly true. Can't you see that we're interrupting them?" She addressed Zuko. "Should we go, Zu-zu, so you can kiss her goodbye?"

"Stop it!" Zuko warned in a low voice.

"Or what, Zuko? You'll hit me? Or you'll call _Mom_?"

"I can fight my own battles." He advanced on his sister.

"Ha! Ha!" Azula took off running, with Zuko close behind. "Zuko likes Lan! Zuko likes Lan!" She shouted at him.

"I do not!" He was gaining on her.

Lan Chi stood rooted to the spot, aghast at the turn of events.

Ty Lee chased after the siblings, clapping and laughing.

Mai came over to Lan and shoved at her shoulder. "You should leave here. You don't belong. And Zuko _does not _like you."

Lan shoved her back. "He doesn't like you either."

Mai's look was murderous.

Just then, Princess Ursa appeared. "Children! What is going on here?"

Azula, Zuko, and Ty Lee stopped in their tracks, although it was Azula who answered. "Just playing, Mom."

"Zuko?" She looked to her son, who dropped his head.

"Yeah, Mom. Just playing." He mumbled.

Her eyes surveyed all their faces until she lit upon Lan Chi, who shifted her gaze away from Ursa.

With Ozai's words regarding Lan ringing in her head, Ursa smiled. "Lady Lan Chi. How wonderful it is to see you again. How are you?"

She was forced to look at the older woman. "I'm well, thank you, Princess."

Ursa held out her hand. "I am so glad to hear that. Come, let me walk you home, and you can tell me all your news." She looked at her daughter. "Azula, it's time for your little friends to go home now, so say goodbye. And Zuko, dear, I think that you left your lessons unfinished."

"Yes, Mother." Both her children answered simultaneously, then glared at each other.

Lan slipped her hand into Ursa's and they walked back to Iroh's private quarters. "I am so glad that I saw you, Lan. I've been wanting to come visit you. How are you doing?"

Lan felt uncomfortable. "Fine, Princess Ursa. Thank you."

"Have you had a letter from your Uncle Iroh recently?"

"Yes, ma'am. I had one today. And one from Lu Ten, as well."

"Are they well?"

"Oh, yes. Lu Ten thinks that they might be home soon now that they have broken through the outer wall."

"Well, that's wonderful, Lan!"

"I cannot wait for their return. I miss them very much."

"I know. My father was away at war for several years, and I missed him terribly." They had come to Lan's home, and Ursa crouched down to look at her. "Lan, I wanted to – to apologize to you. I enjoyed the talk we had in your room that day," Lan stiffened, and Ursa went on hurriedly, "and I meant what I said about keeping your secrets. And, I wanted to spend more time with you, but, well, things have changed and I haven't been able to come by."

Lan smiled. "I understand, my lady." She had long suspected that something had happened to prevent Ursa's coming. At first she had thought that Ursa was repulsed by her waterbending, and even expected Ursa to tell Ozai about it, but when weeks and months passed without any royal guards coming to drag her away, she realized that Ursa had remained quiet about what she had seen. "You needn't be concerned about me. I have learned to like my own company, and I _do_ have Hua, and Uncle's butler and staff, and I'm not lonely." Ursa looked skeptical. "Really, I'm not."

Ursa drew in a long breath, and squeezed Lan's shoulders. "You are a very special young lady, Lan Chi. I hope that your worth is recognized one day."

"Thank you, my lady."

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you are enjoying this. The last scene with Lu Ten and Lan Chi actually made me cry – that is how invested I am in these characters...

On a lighter note, I noticed someone added my story to his/her alert list. WOOT! Raise the roof!


	5. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just polish Zuko's swords (I am aware of how that sounds).**

* * *

The worst news she ever received came in a letter more than 600 days after Iroh and Lu Ten had left to conquer Ba Sing Se. It was a beautiful spring day, and the plum and cherry trees were in full blossom. Every time the wind blew, showers of pink snow drifted to the ground. Lan was in the courtyard, silently moving through the forms that her martial arts master had taught her earlier in the week. At the age of ten, she had good control of her body and superior concentration skills.

Iroh's butler cleared his throat to get her attention. His face was somber as he produced the silver letter tray, with a thin missive on it. She took the letter with a frown, and waited until he left before breaking the seal. Mail was usually not delivered so early, and she had gotten letters from both her uncle and Lu Ten just a few days before.

She unfolded the paper and scanned its contents. Her fingers convulsed, and the letter fluttered to the ground.

_I regret to inform you_, wrote Tet Lee, her uncle's second in command, _that Prince Lu Ten was killed in battle on the seventh day after the spring equinox…_

She did not read anymore.

* * *

Even though Lu Ten had been interred on the battlefield, Azulon wanted a service for his beloved grandson in the Fire Nation capital, as was befitting a great warrior struck down in combat. Nothing was known of Iroh other than that he had withdrawn the troops from the siege of Ba Sing Se, and had disappeared after Lu Ten's burial. Lan did not know if he was dead or alive, or if he was captured, or if he was ever returning.

White mourning clothes were ordered for the entire royal family, Lan included. As a close blood relative of Lu Ten, she would be among the chief mourners, and was expected to place an offering on the altar during the service.

The service was just a blur to her. She recalled sitting with Hua, and she recalled presenting her offering. She did not remember who she saw at the funeral or the words that were said. She did not remember nodding in response to the condolences that she was offered. She did not even recall walking from the temple to the throne room.

Her mind was instead filled with pictures of Lu Ten. Lu Ten laughing, studying, fighting, eating, singing, swimming – all things that he would never do again. She would never see him again. Never feel his hug or see the smile on his face. Never see him ascend the throne. Never see him marry, or have children. Never hear the snores that came from his room, and never skip stones with him again. Never see him joke with Iroh. Never see him smile at Azulon. Never feel his hands on her back as he pushed her on the swing. Never, never, never, never, never. Never anything again. She wished, for not the first time in her life, that she was dead. She wished that she had gone with him into battle, and that she had been crushed alongside him. He was her brother, and she had never loved anyone more. Not her mother or her father or Aunt Su Hsing, or even Uncle Iroh. It had always been Lu Ten.

Azulon sat on his throne, high above the mourners, watching the proceedings with a critical eye. He watched for signs among the nobles of what he considered impropriety – any who did not seem suitably grief-stricken would feel his wrath later on. His eyes finally came to rest on Lan Chi, swathed in white from her neck to her feet, and sitting, head bowed, on a chair along the wall. Azulon gestured for Ozai, who was standing by his father's side.

"Yes, Father?"

"That child against the wall. With the _red hair_. That's Iroh's water whelp, is it not?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Bring her to me."

Ozai gestured to a page, and conveyed the Fire Lord's wishes. He watched as the page wove through the crowd to Lan Chi's side. Iroh's housekeeper, Hua, after speaking with the page, prodded Lan to stand. She whispered something into the child's ear, and Lan's eyes grew huge. Lan Chi followed the page, head bowed again, her hands clasped in front of her.

How Ozai hated that child! She was the inferior offspring of an inferior race. Impure. Tainted. Furthermore, he had heard the rumors surrounding Iroh's intentions for the girl. And he hated her even more.

She reached the steps to the dais, and, as was fitting, she sank to her knees in front of the Fire Lord. She was pleased that there were no flames lit in front of the throne.

Azulon was silent for a long moment, appraising the child before him. She seemed properly humble.

"You are my son Iroh's ward?"

Her voice was small. "Yes, my lord."

"What was your name again, child?"

"Lan Chi, my lord."

He grunted. "Yes. That's right. You have grown since last I saw you."

Lan Chi did not know how to respond.

"My son showed great benevolence by taking you into his home." Azulon continued.

"Yes, my lord."

"And now you are all that is left to him. His wife, gone. Lu Ten, the most beloved of my grandchildren, is dead."

Ozai's eyes narrowed.

Tears began to run down her face. "Yes, my lord." Her voice cracked.

"Look at me, child."

Lan lifted her tear-stained face. Azulon was blurry to her eyes.

"Do you mourn your cousin?" The Fire Lord asked.

"Every moment, my lord." Her words were simple, but strong.

Azulon clasped his hands in front of his mouth for a moment, then lowered them. "As do I."

Lan was silent, her eyes locked on the Fire Lord. She could feel the old man's pain, because it mirrored her own. For the first time in her life, she saw him, not as the Fire Lord, but as a human being.

"You can go, child." He waved a hand in dismissal, suddenly weary.

She bowed her head again. "I humbly serve at the pleasure of the Fire Lord."

Ozai watched as she backed away from the dais, as was proper. Zuko never did that. He always forgot. He always forgot the traditional pledge as well, which this _orphan _recited as if it spilled from her lips daily. Here was this _mongrel_ child, and she had more presence than his own son, born of royalty. He seethed inside.

Lan, after backing away from the Fire Lord, turned and ran from the room, leaving Hua behind. She had to get out of there. She could not stand to be in the room with Azulon, whose grief magnified hers. Lu Ten was gone, and Iroh was missing, and she was _alone_, and the only person who seemed to bear the same amount of grief was a tyrant and a murderer. A murderer who continued to slaughter her mother's people. A tyrant who had sent Lu Ten to his death.

She ran through the darkened hallways of the palace, looking for an exit. She needed fresh air – she had to see the moon – she wanted to be _alone_ in her heartache.

Through large windows she saw a fountain lit by torches, and she pushed her way through the door. It was a large courtyard between two wings of the palace, and it was deserted. She ran to the fountain and sank down beside it. Cool water poured from a basin in the middle. She dipped her hands in it, and brought them up to her face, waiting to feel the calm that usually fell over her when she was near her mother's element, but it didn't come.

The tears came instead. Huge, wracking sobs that shook her body, that tore breath from her throat, that drained her. She did not know how long she sat there, wrapped in her sorrow, in the absolute belief that she was truly _alone_ once again.

"Lady Lan Chi?" It was a boy's voice, as soft as the brush of his fingers on her shoulder. She swiped at the tears on her face, mortified that she should have been caught in her anguish.

She looked up to find Prince Zuko, glowing in the dark, and she realized it was because he was all in white, as she was.

She scrambled to her feet. "Prince Zuko! I'm – I'm sorry." She suddenly realized where she was. "I shouldn't be here. These are your family's private quarters. I'll go. I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention. I'm not supposed to be here."

His brows knit. "No. Don't go. Stay."

"I really – need to."

"Please." He seemed sincere.

"Okay. I don't want to go home." She sat down again.

He sat down next to her, facing her, and she thought she could feel his strange light eyes on her. "I'm really sorry about Lu Ten."

She sniffled again. "Thank you. I should be saying the same thing to you. He was your cousin, too."

"I didn't know him as well as you did."

She wiped the rest of the tears off with her sleeves. "You would have liked him. He was the most wonderful person I ever met."

"I wish that I _had_ known him better. Will you tell me about him?"

The words began to pour out of her. Times she had spent with Lu Ten - the time he taught her how to ride an ostrich-horse, and the time that he taught her how to throw a dagger. And how he helped her with her studies – patiently showed her the use of an abacus, and how to memorize the names of a thousand years of Fire Lords.

She told Zuko a story about the time that she, Iroh, and Lu Ten had gone fishing in Ember Island Bay. Iroh had fallen into the water, and Lu Ten had laughed so hard that he had fallen into the sea trying to help his father out. They were both soaked, and Iroh had lost a boot, but their laughter had been more important than his shoe.

Zuko listened patiently to her stories, a small smile on his face. He enjoyed hearing stories about Lu Ten; he had never really been close to his cousin – perhaps it was because they were so far apart in ages; perhaps it was because Iroh and Ozai were not exactly the closest of brothers. He was slightly jealous that Lan Chi had known Lu Ten so well.

Zuko inched closer to Lan Chi, and his fingers loosely looped around hers. She did not pull away, but hugged her bent knees, bringing her face closer to him. "Thank you, Zuko, for listening to me."

"You're welcome."

She looked at him for a long moment. "Why do you think your dad doesn't want us to play together?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I think that my dad doesn't like Uncle very much."

"Oh."

"I don't know why. Uncle's really nice."

"Yeah." She began to twiddle with his fingers, and he flushed. He was glad of the dark.

"Do – do you, um, think Uncle will be coming back soon?" He asked, flustered.

"I don't know. I hope so. Hua, our housekeeper, said that he is really sad, and doesn't know what he's doing. She says he has to come back here sometime."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"I'm scared, Zuko." It took a lot to admit, but she was glad to say it.

"Why?"

Her fingers tightened on his. "What if Uncle doesn't come back? Why should he? Aunt Su Hsing is dead. So is Lu Ten. Why should he come back for me? I'm not even a blood relative."

"Don't say that! Uncle loves you! I know he does. I know he'll come back for you."

"What if he doesn't? What will I do, Zuko?"

"Isn't there anyone else you can live with?"

She shrugged. "I guess so. Uncle sometimes write letters to one of my father's sisters. But she lives in the Earth Kingdom. That's so far away."

Zuko had a wonderful idea. "You could live with us." He pictured in his mind training and living with Lan Chi and found that it was a pleasant prospect.

"I don't think your dad will like that idea."

Zuko was crestfallen. "Oh. You're probably right."

"Besides, I don't know if I would like to live with Azula."

"You're right. I forgot about Azula. She's mean."

"Is she mean to you?"

"All the time. Mom says it's a brother/sister thing."

"I think it's an _Azula_ thing."

"Zuko? Zuko, are you here?" His mother's voice came to them from the palace corridor, and Zuko snatched his hand from Lan Chi's, inexplicably guilty. He scrambled to his feet, and Lan Chi followed suit.

His mother caught sight of them, and came hurrying over, her white gown turning her look into a ghost floating over the path. "There you are, Zuko! I've been worried sick about you, young man!" She stopped short when she saw Lan beside him. "Lan Chi! What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, Princess Ursa. I'll leave now."

"You don't need to go, child. I am just surprised to see you." She looked thoughtfully at her son and her brother-in-law's ward. "What were you two doing here?"

"Just talking." Lan supplied quickly. "About Lu Ten."

Ursa laid a hand on Lan's head gently. "I'm so sorry about Lu Ten, Lan. I know you two were very close."

"Thank you."

"We should get back, though. You've been gone a long time, Zuko. And I'm sure Prince Iroh's housekeeper is looking for you, Lan." She took each child by the hand, and they walked back to the main wing of the palace, their footsteps echoing hollowly in the grand, empty hallways.

Once back in the crush of people, it did not take Ursa long to locate Hua, who had been frantically looking for her charge.

"Lan! Lan, where have you been?" The relief in Hua's voice was palpable.

"She was with Zuko. They were talking." Ursa's voice was too low for anyone but Hua to hear. Hua shot a look at Lan.

Hua bowed. "Thank you, my lady." She took Lan's hand. "We should go now. It's getting very late." She bowed again to Ursa, who had her hand on Zuko's shoulder.

As she was being led away, Lan turned and looked at Zuko, whose hand rose in a brief wave.

Lan's hand went up more slowly, and she kept her eyes on him until the crowd closed around them both.

* * *

Author's Note: I had to say good-bye to Lu Ten in this chapter, and I admit it was difficult. However, this will not be the last time we hear his name. His presence will loom large over Lan's life. Just because someone is gone does not mean that they are forgotten...


	6. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just rip the soles out of all Toph's shoes.**

* * *

Three days after Lu Ten's funeral, Iroh's housekeeper, Hua, shook Lan awake.

Her heart jumped in her chest. "What is it? Is Uncle Iroh back?"

"No, child. Fire Lord Azulon has died."

She sat up in surprise. Azulon was dead? But she had just spoken to him at the funeral.

"How?"

"Died of grief, so they're saying. Over Lu Ten."

She drew her knees up beneath the sheets and hugged them. Dying of grief – that she could understand. With all the loss in her life, especially with Lu Ten, she understood not wanting to go on. But not from Fire Lord Azulon. He was the strongest person she had ever met.

"Will Uncle Iroh be coming back for the funeral?"

Hua drew back the curtains to let in the pale morning light – it was just sunbreak. "Well, he probably won't be back as soon as that. But he'll have to come sooner rather than later, won't he? He's Fire Lord now."

_Iroh was Fire Lord_! She had forgotten about that in her shock. Iroh was the eldest son, and he would succeed Azulon.

"I guess that means we'll all be moving into the main portion of the palace." She laid out a robe for Lan Chi.

"We will?"

"Of course we will. I don't suppose that they'll make me châtelaine or anything, but I've served your uncle for over 25 years. That's got to account for something."

Lan was silent.

The housekeeper sighed and continued. "At least we already have mourning clothes for you. It's not right that someone as young as you should have to wear them so frequently. Still, maybe the next ceremony we'll be dressing you for will be your wedding." She pulled the bed clothes back. "Oh, I forgot about the coronation. Coronation first, then wedding."

"My – my wedding?" she squeaked.

"Hmm. You're ten now, aren't you? You can be betrothed. And you'll be of marrying age in six years." Hua held out the robe, and Lan slipped her arms into it. "And now that your uncle is Fire Lord, he'll probably be wanting to announce your betrothal soon. He'll want you settled as soon as possible, I'm certain. Of course, there's a lot of protocol and etiquette that you'll need to learn if you're going to be queen someday…"

Lan, who had been fumbling with her slippers, looked up at the housekeeper in alarm. "Queen!"

"Of course. Everyone knows that Prince Zuko is your uncle's heir now, and it's always been Prince Iroh's, I – I mean _Fire Lord_ Iroh's, intention to marry you to Zuko. Everyone knows that. So that will make you the next Queen."

Lan Chi's head began to swim. _Marry Zuko_? Her uncle wanted her to _marry Zuko_? And everyone _knew_? She hadn't known. Did Zuko know? Did his parents know? If so, that would account for the looks of hatred that Ozai had sent her at Lu Ten's funeral.

"Marry Prince Zuko? Me?"

The housekeeper led her to a stool, sat her down, and began running a brush through her hair. "You're a lucky girl. He's very handsome. Of course, that means you'll have to deal with that horrible Princess Azula for the rest of your life, but I have no doubt you can handle her. You just need to stand up to her _once_ – she's a bully, and bullies _always_ back down when they know you won't run away." She began braiding the girl's hair.

Hua continued on. "Prince Iroh – there! I've said it again! I mean _Fire Lord _Iroh, will probably want you to have a child as soon as possible to continue the line. If he had made certain that Prince Lu Ten had married at sixteen, as is the proper age, then we wouldn't have all this brouhaha about the succession. Of course, had Prince Lu Ten had an heir, then your Prince Zuko would not be succeeding at all."

_Have a child as soon as possible? Her _Prince Zuko? This was all moving so quickly. First Lu Ten's death, now Fire Lord Azulon's, and the news that _she_ would be the next queen? And that Zuko would be her husband?

"I'm only ten! I can't have a baby now! I don't even know where babies come from!" She was slightly hysterical, and Hua chuckled.

"Well, we'll have a talk in due time. No need to worry about that now. You can't even be married until you are sixteen. But these years will give you a chance to get to know Prince Zuko, before you are wed. Hopefully, you'll fall in love with him. He seems like a kind, gentle boy."

"He is." She murmured.

"Still, he's a bit of a sulker and he does have a temper. But that's good in men. It gives them passion and fire. Ha! Gives them _fire_ – I made a joke, didn't I?" She tied the end of Lan's braid with a ribbon. "Don't fret, girl. You'll have a long, fine life with Prince Zuko, and give him many sons." She leaned down and gave the girl's shoulders a squeeze. "And _enjoy _every moment."

Lan looked at herself in the mirror. A stranger sat there – a stranger who would become the next Queen of the Fire Nation, and who would marry Zuko…

* * *

There was an air of great expectation in the house in the three days prior to Azulon's funeral. The servants were busy packing up all the contents of the house, in anticipation of moving. Every few minutes, one of the maids or the butler or housekeeper would go to the entrance and ask the guards there if they knew anything about the move. The answer was always no.

Lan waited fretfully for something else. Word from Iroh that he was returning. None came, however, and the day of Azulon's funeral, she dressed early, thinking perhaps that Iroh had gone straight to his new quarters, and might call for her any moment. Finally, at noon, she heard a knock on the door. Lan's heart leapt into her throat.

She ran to the door, past all the servants, and flung it open. A royal messenger stood there.

"Lady Lan Chi?" She nodded. "I have a message for you from the Fire Lord's staff."

She took it with shaking hands. Had Iroh arrived? Was this what she had been waiting for?

The messenger bowed low and took his leave.

Lan ripped the royal seal apart and unfolded the letter.

_Dear Lady Lan Chi,_

_Due to the unprecedented number of visitors expected today for Fire Lord Azulon's state funeral, we are unable to provide proper escort and guards for you. Therefore, we ask that you and your staff remain in your home, and await further communication._

It was signed by the head of the palace guards.

"I'm not going to the funeral." Lan was puzzled.

"What? Let me see that!" Hua took it from her hands and read the letter, frowning. "What's this all about? Your uncle is Fire Lord now – why can't they provide guards? And what is the meaning of this _your staff remain in your home_? Are we prisoners?"

"Why do I need guards? I've never needed them before." Lan was puzzled.

"You're a member of the royal family now, my lady. But why can't we go to the funeral? I'll see about this." She walked to the doors that led to the rest of the palace, and opened them. The two guards who usually stood there had been replaced with the royal guard, men whose faces were obscured by faceplates.

"Where are our usual men?"

"New security, ma'am. We are anticipating threats to your safety, and Prince Ozai has determined that it is in your best interests to remain here."

"What? All of us?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"We'll see about this!" She slammed the door. "Jianyu!"

The butler came at a run, and Hua quickly explained the situation. The butler threw open the door, which the guards closed after him. After a few minutes, the butler came back in with a shaken look.

"We are to stay here until further notice. Prince Ozai's orders."

"What?" Hua was indignant. "For how long?"

Jianyu shook his head. "They said that they don't know."

"Well, tell them to send for someone who _does _know. We want to go to the funeral!"

"They said that we must remain here. All of us."

Several other members of the staff had wandered in.

"Are we prisoners?" The cook asked.

"Of course not!" Snapped Hua.

"But if we can't leave..." One of the maids said meekly.

"It's for our own safety." Jianyu said quietly.

"Why are we at risk?" One of the footman asked.

"I don't know!" Hua yelled. She turned to one of the houseboys. "Nianzu, your brother works in Azulon's private quarters, doesn't he?" The boy nodded. "Climb over the back wall and find out what's going on. And be careful not to be seen. And quick." The boy ran off to do his superior's bidding. The housekeeper turned to Lan and smiled. "We'll get to the bottom of this soon enough, my lady."

It took Nianzu nearly two hours to return to all those waiting for him. The palace, he said, was in a virtual lock-down. Doors normally open to the other wings were barred and crowds were massive. Nianzu, out of breath, said that it had taken him a while to get around all the security and find his brother.

What he had found out was shocking. Rumors were circulating through the palace servants that Princess Ursa had collapsed when told of Azulon's death, and she had reportedly died early that day. Whether that was true or not Nianzu had not been able to confirm, but no one had seen her since _before _Azulon's death.

Lan covered her mouth with her hands. Princess Ursa, _dead_? Zuko's mother? Lan had just seen her at the fountain, and she had looked fine…

Zuko! Poor Zuko! He adored his mother – everyone knew that, and the thought that Zuko's mother had been ripped away so suddenly, at a time when Lu Ten and Azulon had died as well, was almost too much to bear.

"Princess Ursa has died?" Hua's eyes narrowed. "Well, that could be why they can't provide guards for Lan. If the people hear about her death before the funeral starts, there will be chaos. I can't imagine the crowds! Of course, some of them will be there just to gawk – vultures!" Hua spat.

"But why would we have to stay here?" The cook voiced what everyone had been thinking.

"I don't know," said Jianyu. "But it must have something to do with Princess Ursa's death."

"I think the royal family is cursed," one of the undermaids said meekly.

Hua turned around and cuffed her on the head. "Dolt! Don't say that! The family is _not_ cursed." She smiled at Lan. "The family's not cursed, my lady. Qiang was just joking. Weren't you, Qiang?"

The girl looked scared. "Yes, my lady. I was joking."

Hua gave her another dark look, and turned back to Nianzu. "Get back there and see if you can find out anything else. And find out if anyone has heard from Prince Iroh – I mean _Fire Lord_ Iroh. And be careful."

The next hours passed interminably slowly for Lan. Concern for Iroh, concern for Zuko, worries about living in the palace and why they were being held prisoner here, and worries about _marrying_ Zuko all kept running through her head until she was dizzy. She missed Iroh so much, and wanted his reassuring presence at home with her. She felt sure that, had he been home, Azulon might have lived, and none of them would be in the mess they were now in. Iroh had always been Azulon's favorite, and his presence could have kept Azulon alive.

But he wasn't home, and Azulon _had_ died, and so had Zuko's mother. What would they all do now?

* * *

It was almost nightfall by the time Nianzu returned. When he entered through the sitting room door, his eyes were wide, and he was shaking. Lan, who had been curled up in a seat gazing out at the courtyard, thinking, jumped up when she saw him and called for Hua.

The housekeeper rushed in from helping with dinner, a mixing bowl and spoon still in her hands.

"Nianzu! What is it? What's happened?"

The boy's face was ashen. "Prince Ozai was crowned Fire Lord."

The mixing bowl crashed to the ground. "Oh, spirits preserve us!" She turned and called for the butler.

Jianyu came running at the housekeeper's tone. He stopped at the scene before him – Hua standing before a broken mixing bowl, Nianzu pale and out of breath, and Lan Chi, silent, her eyes round and fearful.

"Ozai has had himself crowned Fire Lord," Hua reported.

"Where did you hear this?"

Nianzu broke in. "It's true, Sir. I was there. At the funeral in the central plaza. Prince Ozai and Prince Zuko and Princess Azula were up on the platform with the body, and, after the sages lit it on fire, the senior sage said that it was Azulon's dying wish that he be succeeded by Ozai."

"Are you certain?" Jianyu demanded.

"Yes!" The boy was adamant. "I saw it with my own eyes! Didn't you hear it here? There were crowds cheering."

Jianyu's eyes narrowed, and he went through to the main living area, followed by Lan and the others. He threw open the door. There were no guards on duty.

"I think we're free to go. They have accomplished their mission." His voice was dull and flat.

"Mission? What mission?" Hua asked.

"Making certain that Ozai was crowned Fire Lord."

"Spirits save us all!" Hua breathed.

"What will happen to Uncle Iroh now?" Lan asked in a small voice.

The housekeeper had forgotten the girl standing there. "Oh, dear, my lady." She tried to comfort Lan Chi. "Don't worry. I'm sure that your uncle will be fine. Everything will work out." She hustled Lan from the room. "Go up to your chamber, now, my lady, and rest. It's been a long day."

Lan did as she was told, but she could not rest. There was too much turmoil in her.

She paced around her room for a long time, agitated. Finally, she stripped off the white mourning clothes and changed into her sparring clothes, which consisted of a close-fitting tunic and pants, with a long robe, and soft, quiet boots.

She stole down the stairs. The rooms were now in shadow; few candles burned. She heard voices from the kitchen, and peered through the slats in the door. It was the butler and the housekeeper.

"Keep your voice down," Jianyu hissed at the housekeeper.

"Keep my voice down? Prince Ozai has stolen the throne from our master, and you want me to keep my voice down?"

"If you value your life! You never know who might be listening."

Lan panicked, but Jianyu peered out the kitchen window. Apparently satisfied that no one lurked outside, he turned back to Hua. "We don't know if that's true."

"Do you really think Fire Lord Azulon revoked Prince Iroh's birthright? Iroh was his favored child. Everyone knows that."

"But with Prince Lu Ten gone, Iroh has no one to succeed him."

Hua snorted. "You know as well as I do that Prince Zuko was to inherit in the event of Lu Ten's death. _You _were there when the document was witnessed!"

The butler sighed.

Hua continued her tirade. "Ozai saw a chance to steal the throne for himself. I wouldn't be surprised if he colluded with those _fire sages_," she sneered at this, "and killed his own father so that he could get the crown before Prince Iroh came home."

"You're speaking treason, Hua. Be careful!"

"It's treason that Ozai stole the throne. And Princess Ursa dying from _shock_? I don't believe that! Maybe she found out what Ozai was going to do and protested."

Lan covered her mouth.

"So now you're suggesting that Prince Ozai killed his own wife, too?"

"Prince Ozai is the most ruthless man that I have ever known. A true son of Sozin the Demon."

"Hush! Are you trying to get us killed?"

"No one's listening. Ozai has his hands full right now – he doesn't care about his brother's servants gossiping! He made certain that we were out of the way when we could have stopped him..."

"How could _we _have stopped him?"

Hua was silent for a moment. "Perhaps we couldn't have stopped him – but we could have raised a stink!"

Jianyu snorted. "Well, what is certain is that everything about this _stinks_."

Hua shook her head. "And now that poor Prince Zuko, left without his mother, with that viper for a sister and Ozai for a father. Mark my words, Zuko will not have an easy time ascending to the throne now. Nianzu said that he saw Zuko crying after the ceremony."

"Zuko needs to grow up – he's always been too coddled."

"Oh, it's a crime for a boy to be close to his mother, is it? Princess Ursa was worth ten of Ozai!"

"Let's stop squabbling. It's no use, anyway. It won't get any of us closer to the palace. If only Prince Iroh had been home."

"I blame him for this. His place was here. He should have known his brother would try a scheme like this after Lu Ten's death."

"I don't even know if Prince Iroh _cares_ about being Fire Lord anymore. Lu Ten was his life." Jianyu sighed again.

"Well, he's gone, and we're stuck here, and poor Lan Chi – what's to happen to her? I doubt very much if Ozai will allow Zuko to marry her now."

"He never wanted Zuko to marry her."

"But if Prince Iroh had become Fire Lord, Ozai couldn't have protested. Now I'm sure he'll find Zuko some pasty-faced, humorless daughter of a nobleman – one with deep pockets, that's certain! It's disgusting! Lan would be a perfect match for Zuko. Prince Iroh saw that! Now what's to happen to her – especially if Iroh doesn't return?"

"Let's not talk about it anymore. My head is swimming. Put on some water for tea. I have some brandy we can put in."

"If ever there was a night to get drunk, this is it."

Lan crawled away and ran outside to the courtyard. She stood on the cobbles, and looked up at the stars in the sky. Everything was _wrong_ now. Lu Ten was dead, Azulon was dead, Princess Ursa was dead, Uncle Iroh was just _gone_, and nothing was _right_.

She thought of Zuko, now, like her, without a mother. She had lost two mothers. She knew what it was like. It was like you were in a hole that you couldn't climb out of. And Hua was right. Azula was Ozai's child – as like him as a mirror image. Azula would feel little grief losing her mother. But Zuko – Zuko would be devastated. And he had been so kind to her after Lu Ten had died. Now, he probably had no one to comfort him.

She could see the spire of the main tower of the palace, where Zuko would soon live. An idea came to Lan then, and she narrowed her eyes in thought. Without a chance to talk herself out of it, she ran to the gate that connected this courtyard to Zuko's. It was locked. She turned to the fountain and pulled a stream of water from it. She bended it into the lock and, with concentration, turned the water to ice. She could hear a crack and then a satisfying pop as the mechanism broke under the force of the ice. She released the water, and tried the handle. The gate swung away from her with nary a sound.

She smiled.

Once inside, she put all of the training that Colonel Shinu and Master Piandao had pounded into her head to use. She darted across the courtyard, from bush to bush, until she made her way to the fountain where she had met Zuko – could it really have been less than a week before?

From the fountain it was an all-out dash to the safety of the building itself.

She knew that Zuko's rooms fronted the courtyard, and she made her way around the edge. She found a sitting room, empty, and Princess Azula's chamber, with the Princess quietly sleeping. She guessed that the Prince's rooms had to be close by. She peered through a window, and thought she had found the right chamber. A small lump was on the giant bed that dominated the center of the enormous room, and she thought she heard crying through the open window. Without a thought, she climbed through the window and sneaked up to the bed's platform.

"Zuko?" She whispered. "Prince Zuko?"

He didn't sit up, but he stopped crying. "Who is it?" he asked fearfully.

"It's Lan Chi." She crept closer.

Now he did sit. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to – see if you're okay."

He lay back down. "No, I'm not okay. Now leave."

She came closer. "I'm sorry about your mother."

"Go away." His voice was muffled.

"Do – do you want to talk about her?"

"No. And if I did, I wouldn't talk about her to a half-breed like you!"

She flinched at the insult. He had never called her that before. Words from his father. But he was hurt, and, like a hurt animal, he had lashed out.

"I know what it's like to lose your mother," she continued, softly and slowly. "I lost my mother, and then I lost my aunt. I barely even remember my mother." She reached the bottom of the bed.

There was a long silence, and then Zuko's voice came out in a whisper. "Do you still miss her?"

"It's gotten better, but I don't think I'll ever stop missing her." She came around the bed.

"I feel like I want to die," Zuko confessed.

"I know." She knelt beside the bed, close to Zuko. She could see his tear-soaked face in the moonlight, and one pale hand was extended beyond the covers.

"Did you feel this way?"

She nodded, and reached her hand out to take his. "Yes. It's okay to feel that way. It's natural. But it gets better."

"How can it ever get better? I'm never going to see her again."

"Not in this world, maybe, but you will in the spirit world."

"In the spirit world? When I'm dead, too?"

"My mother always visits me in my dreams," she said quietly.

"Then I want to go to sleep and never wake up."

She didn't know what to say. "But you're going to be Fire Lord someday."

"I don't care about that. I've never wanted to be Fire Lord. I just want to see Mom again."

"I know."

"Dad doesn't even want to have a funeral. He says it's too close to Grandfather's and Lu Ten's."

"I'm sorry."

"I feel like this is all a bad dream. That I'll wake up, and everything will be back to normal. But it's never going to be normal again!"

She smiled sadly. "There was nothing anyone could tell me that would make me feel better when my mother died. Or when Lu Ten died. But it _will _get better, Zuko. I promise." She squeezed his hand, and his own grip tightened.

"Did talking to me help – when Lu Ten died, I mean?"

She nodded, serious. "Yes."

He was silent for a long moment. "Will – will you stay here – with me – for a while? Just for a little while?"

"Of course, Zuko." She slid up onto the bed, and lay down facing him, only inches away.

He watched her, and once again, as at the fountain during Lu Ten's funeral, she could see his strange light eyes almost glowing in the low light. "You have the most beautiful eyes," she murmured. As soon as she said it, she wished she could call it back. It seemed such a _personal_ thing to say.

Instead, he smiled. It was only the tiniest curving of the lips, but it was wonderful to see. "Thank you. You have the most beautiful hair."

"My hair is horrible. People are always pointing at me and making fun of it. And calling me names."

"It's because they're jealous. Mom always said so."

"Really? Princess Ursa said that – about my hair?"

He nodded. "She always said that your hair was the color of the sunset. She thought it was beautiful, too." He started to cry again.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Zuko! I didn't mean to make you cry."

He swiped his hand across his eyes. "No. It's okay. I – I shouldn't cry. I have to be strong. Mom wanted me to be strong."

Lan was almost certain he was talking to himself, trying to convince himself. "You are strong, Zuko."

"So are you."

She took his hand again and gripped it tightly.

There was a companionable silence. Finally, Zuko broke it. "I'm sorry Uncle Iroh won't be Fire Lord."

Her eyes shuttered. "Me, too."

"I really don't want to be Fire Lord, Lan." He said, mistaking her resentment for Ozai as resentment for him.

"It's not your fault. It's not even your father's. Azulon made the decision."

He compressed his lips, uncertain if he should give his next words voice. "I saw my dad talking to Grandfather the night – the night that he died."

"The night Azulon died?"

He nodded. "Dad wanted to be named Grandfather's successor."

Lan gasped, and Zuko reached out to cover her mouth.

"Not so loud." He whispered.

Lan nodded, and he removed his hand.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"No, you're right. Go on."

"Grandfather got mad. Really mad. He told Dad that he would never betray Uncle Iroh. And then he said that he was going to punish my dad."

"And what happened then?"

Zuko looked sheepish. "I don't know. I ran away, because Grandfather was so mad."

"Did they see you?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

"So you think Azulon changed his mind?"

"I don't know. But Azula was there, too –"

"Azula! You didn't say Azula was there."

"She stayed to listen, and then she came to my room later."

"Did she tell you what happened?"

He nodded. "Yes."

She waited, but he kept silent.

"Zuko. What happened?"

He spoke slowly, as if he was concentrating on remembering. "She said that Grandfather told dad that his punishment would be to – to lose a first-born son, like Uncle Iroh had lost Lu Ten." The last part came out in a rush.

Lan drew in her breath sharply. "What do you mean?"

Zuko's face was miserable. "She said that Grandfather told Dad that he would have to – to kill me."

Lan Chi was stunned. She knew that Iroh had been Azulon's favorite son, and that he had been devastated by the loss of Lu Ten, but she couldn't believe that he would make such an outrageous request of Ozai. _Azulon killed thousands of people_, the voice in her head whispered, but she remembered how Azulon had looked on Lu Ten with such fondness and _tenderness_, and found that she could not reconcile that with what Azula had told Zuko.

She shook her head. "That doesn't sound like your Grandfather, Zuko."

"How could you know? You barely ever saw him."

"I saw him with Lu Ten. He _loved_ Lu Ten. A lot. I can't believe that he would want his only other grandson killed, Zuko. I just can't believe it."

"Are you saying Azula lied?"

"I'm saying that it doesn't sound like your grandfather."

Zuko stared off over her shoulder. What Lan said echoed in his head, as well as what he had chanted to himself the night of Azulon's death. _Azula always lies_.

With his eyes still unfocused, Zuko began to speak again. "Mom came to me later that night. She – she was wearing a long cape. The kind she wears when she goes out at night. And she told me that," tears began again, "that everything she did was to protect me. And she told me to remember who I am – to never – never forget who I am – even if things change. And then she left." His hand clenched on hers. "The next morning, when I went to look for her, Grandfather was dead. And so was she."

"Oh, Zuko." Lan began to cry. "I'm so sorry."

"What am I going to do, Lan?"

Tears were running sideways down her face and onto his sheets. "I don't know, Zuko. I just don't know."

They lay there for several minutes without talking, the only sound their crying.

Finally, the tears tapered off, and Zuko attempted another smile. "Thank you, Lan, for coming here. I feel better."

She sat up suddenly and wiped her nose. "I should go."

"No!" he said it sharply, then, more quietly, "please stay a little longer. Please."

His eyes were begging, and she nodded. "I can stay until you go to sleep, if you like." She could already see his eyes start to close.

"Thank you," he murmured softly. His breathing became more regular, and she knew that he had fallen asleep.

She watched him as he slept – he had enormous circles under his eyes, and his lashes were clumped from the tears. She leaned forward, impulsively, and, in the pale moonlight, kissed him, softly, on the cheek. She pulled away then, and settled next to him, watching him breathe. She was so tired, too, after this long, excruciating day.

Her eyelids fluttered down…

* * *

**Author's note: **Whoo! There will be heck to pay tomorrow for a midnight rendezvous, I think! On other notes, this is a greatly expanded version of my original version of this scene. I decided we needed a window into Zuko's bruised soul, and this was a chance for Lan Chi to attempt to humanize Azulon. Upon finding out that he was as destroyed by Lu Ten's death as she was, she thought it important to defend him – just a little. Not too much, since, after all, he was responsible for the deaths of a lot of her mother's people – and, of course, Lu Ten's death might be his fault a little, as well...


	7. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just weave flower garlands for Chong and the Nomads.**

* * *

And so it was on the first full day of ruling the country that Fire Lord Ozai was forced to face a threat to the future of the monarchy. That this threat was a girl just ten years old and less than five feet tall was not important to Ozai.

So when Princess Azula came to her father with tales of what she had just seen in her brother's chamber, Ozai hastened to his son's room, followed by two recently promoted Royal Guards.

He found them as Azula had said, Zuko asleep on his bed, Lan curled next to him.

Ozai turned to one of the guards. "Cover her mouth and get her out of here. Take her to the west wing and keep her there. She is _not_ to leave."

The guard nodded, and clamped a hand over Lan's mouth. She jerked awake, and the guard bundled her into his arms. She tried to scream, but it came out muffled and weak. She saw Ozai standing there, and her eyes grew wide.

"Get her out of my sight." The guards nodded.

Zuko slept on as Lan was swept from the room, Princess Azula watching from behind a pillar.

Ozai motioned Azula out of the room and closed the door behind them. "Not a word to anyone. Especially not Zuko."

She nodded conspiratorially.

Ozai shooed her away and turned for his office, furious. That little Water Tribe slut! She was trying to trap Zuko into marriage – whoring apparently started very young in the Water Tribe.

But how did she find out that his meddling brother had planned their betrothal? Had Iroh told her? Was this her way of making certain that, despite the fact that Iroh would never be Fire Lord, she would be queen someday?

He was almost impressed by her scheming. Had Azula not found them, had some gossiping servant been the one to catch them together, the word would certainly have gotten out, and he might have had no choice but to betroth that _foolish_ boy to her. He was almost sorry that he could not make use of Lan Chi's conniving nature – she might have been quite an asset.

* * *

Lan Chi had never been more frightened in her entire life. One moment she was sleeping next to Zuko, and the next she was being carried through the palace by one of the Fire Lord's personal guards, her mouth covered. She had no idea where she was going, or what was going to happen. Would they kill her? Throw her out onto the street? She prayed for the latter.

The guard brought her to a small sitting room, opened the door, and set her down. "Stay in here."

He closed the door and locked it. She tried the handle, but it did not budge. She crossed over to the windows, but she was on the second floor, and no trees brushed against the walls. She sighed. Unless she wanted to jump twenty feet to the ground, she was stuck.

* * *

When Zuko awoke about an hour after Lan's departure, he looked around the room for her. She had said that she would stay with him, but she was gone. She had probably left after he had fallen asleep.

He wondered, for a moment, whether he had dreamed her. Maybe she had never come to his room at all. Maybe he had, in sleep stricken by grief, sought comfort from her in his mind only.

But, no. He could not have dreamed her words, or her soft skin. She had been there. She had been real.

He smiled widely for the first time in four days.

* * *

Lan was left in the room for three hours. Three hours to think and worry. What would happen to her? Had her uncle's servants discovered she was missing? If they had, they might have also noticed that the lock in the gate was broken. They might have put those two facts together and guessed where she had gone. Maybe Jianyu would storm in any moment and rescue her.

Or maybe she was stuck here until the Fire Lord was ready to deal with her.

When a guard finally came to get her, it was not the same one as before. He gestured for her to come with him, and she obeyed, fairly certain that, had she protested, he would have picked her up and carried her.

She was taken to the Throne Room. The fires burned in front of the throne itself, which meant that Ozai was on the throne. The guard dragged her to the front, and shoved her to her knees in front of the dais. She bowed her head in respect. Now was not the time to be rebellious.

"I suppose you thought you could trap me into allowing you to marry Prince Zuko." Ozai's low, stentorian tones rang throughout the room. The flames between them glowed blue for a moment, then returned to normal.

Her head snapped up. "What? No, no, my lord, I was not –"

"Silence!" The flames shot up, and she cowered. "You cannot lie to me. You and your kind are liars, thieves! Whores! Did my brother put you up to this? Have you heard from him?"

She lowered her head. "No, my lord."

"You did not construct this plan on your own."

She looked up at him again, although she could only see a shadow of his features. "There was no plan, my lord. I swear to you. I had heard about the death of Princess Ursa, and –"

"And you thought to take advantage of my family's grief?" The flames shot higher.

"No, my lord! I was – worried about Zuko, I mean, Prince Zuko. My mother died, too, and I – I know how it feels." She finished lamely. It sounded feeble even to her ears, although it was the truth.

Ozai's silence was lengthy, allowing enough time for Lan to start trembling in fear. What would he do? Would he send her to prison? She had no doubt that he had the authority.

"I did not know what to do with you," he finally began, "when I first discovered you with my son this morning. I had thought to send you away, to one of the far provinces. Far from Zuko. Far from _my _family. But there is no one who would want you – not even my brother. He left you, didn't he? Hasn't come back. Why should he come back? You mean nothing to him – less than nothing." He waited for that to sink in, and she flushed bitterly. His words so perfectly echoed her recent thoughts.

"There is no one," he continued, "who wants the ill-begotten offspring of a Water Tribe whore in their home, even if her father was once a great hero."

Anger bubbled up in her, but dropped her head to contain it.

"I could not think where to put a slut like you. Who would take you? A dilemma, you see." He tapped his fingers on the arms of his throne, the flames between him and Lan licking in rhythm to his tapping.

"However, I think that, with difficulty, mind you, I _have_ found a place for you." he paused dramatically. "It appears that the Royal Fire Academy for Girls presently has a boarding spot available."

Lan's head shot up. The only girls from the capital who boarded at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls were those labeled _troublesome_ or were an _embarrassment_ to their families. Princess Azula and her friends only attended the school as day students. To be from the capital city and board there was considered a punishment. Anger and resentment welled up again inside Lan.

Ozai continued. "You will go and live there until my brother returns. _If _he returns. You are to leave the palace and go there directly."

"I have no clothes, my lord," she protested, bowing her head again. "Only what I have on my back."

"The students there wear uniforms. You have no need of anything else. Everything else will be provided to you. At your uncle's expense, of course."

She was silent, and Ozai continued. "Did you hear me, Lady Lan Chi? You have been provided with an excellent opportunity to further your education. One that few in this country are provided. Should you not say _thank you_ to your benevolent leader, who has troubled himself to secure this position for you?"

Through gritted teeth, she answered him. "Thank you, my lord."

"I need not have gone to this trouble, you know. The Tingju prison is only a few miles from here, and I think that would have done as well to solve _my_ problem about where to put you."

"Thank you, my lord." She repeated.

He waved his hand, and the guard dragged her to her feet. This audience was over. She backed away from Ozai. She did not dare turn away from him.

"Lady Lan Chi –" Ozai's voice was silky. "I believe you have forgotten something."

She fumbled in her mind for a moment, and then realized what Ozai wanted. Her eyes hardened. "I humbly serve at the pleasure of the Fire Lord."

* * *

True to his threat, Ozai's guards took her directly from the throne room to a waiting carriage, and they made the fifteen-minute drive to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls.

The building sat on a vast tract of land in the middle of the city, surrounded by a high iron fence. The grounds were beautiful, Lan admitted, as the carriage entered the gate. The sight and sound, however, of the gate closing behind her drove fear into the pit of her stomach. The carriage stopped at the wide stone stairs of the portico, and a waiting servant girl opened the door. Lan scrambled out, followed by the guards.

She climbed the stairs slowly, taking in her first sight of the place she was to spend the next portion of her life. The building was red brick with a golden roof fluted at the corners, and very impressive. The guard ahead of her opened the door for her to pass through, and her eyes took a few moments to adjust to the darkness.

She was ushered past a number of doors and into a room at the far end of the hallway. A secretary at a desk lifted her head as they entered.

The woman looked Lan over with a critical eye. "The girl Fire Lord Ozai sent over?"

One of the guards nodded.

"Wait here," she said, unnecessarily, to Lan. She disappeared into an interior office, and returned a few moments later. "Come with me." She ushered Lan into a large office and indicated that she should sit.

The chair faced an over-sized desk, behind which sat a stern-looking older woman. She was studying a letter before her, and kept Lan waiting long minutes. She finally lowered her pince-nez, and looked Lan over critically.

"Lady Lan Chi Sun."

There was silence. She continued. "You have done your father's memory a disservice by acting so dishonorably. However, it is nothing less than I expect from a child of the Water Tribe. Your mother seduced your father, so it is only natural that you would follow in her footsteps, and try to trap Prince Zuko into marriage."

Lan colored. "My mother did not seduce my father! They _loved_ each other!"

The secretary cuffed Lan on the back of the head. The woman behind the desk raised an eyebrow. "You are being disrespectful. There are penalties for that."

Lan glared at her assailant.

"Fire Lord Ozai writes that you were found in Prince Zuko's bed. I am certain that General Iroh did not raise you as a wanton and a whore, girl. Therefore, your low impulses must have come from your mother."

Lan wanted to defend her mother, but her head still rung from the earlier blow, so she sealed her lips.

"Did you lay with him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come now, girl. Do not play the innocent with me. Did you allow Prince Zuko to violate your body?"

"No!"

The woman nodded. "Good. At least you showed a modicum of decency." She sighed. "The Fire Lord is _very _displeased with you. However, he believes you can be rehabilitated, given the proper environment and guidance. He has left that up to _me_. I will be watching you. One step out of line, _one small mistake_, and you will regret it. Do not waste the second chance that was given to you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Lan nodded silently.

"Good. Then I am certain that you shall get along well here. There is much you need to learn."

* * *

Lan's first days at the Academy were tumultuous. A whirl of new classes and new subjects assailed her mind. She was enrolled in mathematics, Fire Nation literature and Fire Nation history, as well as etiquette and elementary calligraphy. She was not enrolled in bending class, of course, since she could not bend, nor was she enrolled in self-defense and fighting. When she asked the fighting teacher if she could transfer into the class, the older man simply said that her curriculum had been decided "at the highest levels," which Lan interpreted as being forbidden by Ozai.

She had been placed in a large bedroom with three other girls, who, for the most part, ignored her or were openly suspicious. Boarding girls from the capital were, as Lan knew, mostly _troubled_ or quarrelsome girls, and the out-of-town boarders had learned to avoid them as much as possible. Still, they were not openly hostile to her – only guarded.

One day, during her second week at school, she was sitting in math class, busily using an abacus, when the door to the classroom opened, and the Headmistress's secretary came in. She approached the teacher and whispered in her ear. The teacher glanced at Lan.

"You have a visitor."

Lan looked blankly at her.

"Go." The teacher prompted her, and Lan jumped from her seat and followed the secretary.

The only sound in the hallway was that of their slippers scratching against the highly polished floor. Lan kept her hands in her sleeves and her face bowed.

Who could be her visitor? Could it possibly be Uncle Iroh? Or could it be Ozai? She prayed it was not Ozai. No, it couldn't possibly be Ozai. If Ozai wanted to see her, he would have her brought to the palace.

She was shown to the headmistress's office and ushered inside.

"Lan!" Hua, Iroh's housekeeper, stood alone in the room.

"Hua!" Lan ran forward and threw herself into the older woman's arms.

"My lady, we were _so worried_! What happened to you? When we got the letter from the palace saying you had enrolled at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, we were so _relieved _that you weren't hurt, but why did you come here?"

Lan looked around in case anyone was listening. "I didn't come here by choice. I was sent here by the Fire Lord!"

"You were sent here by the _Fire Lord_? What happened?" Hua led her to a low sofa.

Lan sank down on it wearily. "I went to see Prince Zuko the night of the funeral."

"You went to see _Prince Zuko_?"

"Hua, will you stop repeating everything I say?"

"I'm sorry, but I just don't understand. Why did you go to see Prince Zuko?" A look of horror came over her face. "Have you been meeting with Prince Zuko in secret?"

"What? No!" She blushed. "I went to see if he was – okay. I was worried about him because of Princess Ursa. I wanted to – help him."

"Lan, How did you _help him_?"

"We – talked."

"I still don't understand how you ended up here."

She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. "We fell asleep, and the Fire Lord found me in Zuko's chamber the next morning."

Her hands flew up to her cheeks. "Oh, my. _You were in Prince Zuko's bedchamber_?"

She hung her head. "Yes."

"Not – not in _his bed_, surely?" Hua was aghast.

Lan nodded glumly.

"Oh, no! And Fire Lord Ozai found you?"

"Yes." She muttered.

"Oh, my! Oh, my!" She got up and paced the room twice, and then came and took Lan Chi's hands in her own. She sat down beside her again, a look of anxious concern on her face. "Were you – unclothed?"

"No!" Lan pulled her hands away.

"Oh, thank goodness. Did he kiss you?"

"No. I kissed him."

"Oh. Did he _touch you_ in any way?"

"Well, yes."

"Oh, dear. Oh, dear! _What _did he touch you _with_, Lan?"

She was puzzled. "His hands, of course."

"Well, that's a relief. I suppose. Did he – touch you anywhere – strange?"

"It wasn't _strange_, really. It felt – good."

"Where did he touch you, Lan?" She was getting frustrated, and she gave the girl a shake.

Lan frowned. "My hands, Hua. We held hands. Why?"

"And that's _all_ you did?"

"Yes. I told you. And I kissed him. On the cheek. While he was asleep."

"And that's all?"

"Yes."

"Well, thank the spirits! But Fire Lord Ozai found you, and I suppose he wasn't happy."

"No. He wasn't. He said I was a –" she searched for a different word than Ozai had used. She couldn't tell Hua what he had said. It was too – shameful. "Troublemaker. And that Uncle Iroh had abandoned me, and that no one else wanted me. That the only place that would take me was here."

"Lan, that's not true. You can come home to us."

Tears started to her eyes. "He said I have to stay here until Uncle returns." She turned a hopeful face to the older woman. "Have you heard from Uncle Iroh?"

She shook her head silently.

Lan drew in a deep breath. "All right. It's all right. I'll be fine here. Did you bring me any of my things?"

Hua nodded. "The letter said I could bring one case of personal belongings." She indicated a chest against the wall.

"Thank you." Lan gave her a quick hug and ran over to throw open the chest, excited. The first things she saw were her miniatures of her mother, father, Iroh, her aunt, and Lu Ten. Lan abruptly burst into tears.

Hua came over to comfort her. "Why are you crying?"

"I had started to forget what my mother looked like."

* * *

Hua and Lan sorted through the items in the chest, with Hua taking back "contraband" items such as sweets and street wear. The girls were forbidden to possess any clothes from home other than undergarments, and outside food was not allowed.

Lan was, luckily, allowed to have grooming items, pictures of her family, a journal, and a few books on Fire Nation history. Everything else was packed back into the chest, and a maid came in to tell them that Lan must return to class.

"Thank you for coming, Hua. Will you come back soon?" Lan's voice was hopeful.

"As often as the headmistress allows it." Hua frowned. "She's very strict."

"I think the Fire Lord has told her to keep an eye on me."

"That man! If he wasn't Fire Lord, I'd…"

"Don't say anything, Hua. I know how you feel."

The housekeeper gave her a long hug. "Please take of yourself."

Lan nodded and stood as the older woman was escorted from the room. "No one else will," she said to an empty room.

* * *

Author's Note: So now we see the repercussions of Lan's impulsiveness. She has gotten herself into quite a pickle. And, worse, she has now come into Azula's sphere of influence. Luckily, she is not the same year as Azula, but their paths are BOUND to cross at some time.

Let me know what you readers think!


	8. Chapter 7

**Thanks again, to those of you who have added this to your "favorites" or "alerts" list. I hope to not disappoint. I will try to add more chapters every day or every other day, at least until we get Zuko launched on his ship with Iroh, Lt. Jee, etc. That will be the end of Part 1. Part 2 will take place immediately prior to the events of season 1. The end of Part 2, in fact, will butt up against Katara finding Aang in the iceberg, although the gAang doesn't really come into the story until Part 3, when some of them will play a larger role.  
**

**That, in fact, brings me to another point. I think that, for ease of reading, I should break the three parts into three separate fanfics. If I do that, I will have to rename this fanfic _The Spirit Within: Part One - The Water Tribe Child_, and the second one will be ****_The Spirit Within: Part Two_, and the third one, obviously, will be ****_The Spirit Within: Part Three_ (each with a subtitle, so to speak, that will be a surprise (to you, not to me)). I don't know if that will mess up any alert/favorite designations that exist. I think that it won't, since I don't intend to move the fanfic out of its original file - just rename it with a longer name.**  


**********P/M me your opinions on that. I am nothing if not responsive!  
**

**********There is actually an epilogue, as well, although I am reserving judgement on whether I need to use it, depending on the events of _The Promise_ comic that is wrapping up later this year.  
**

**********Another note: The three parts should be read in order, although you don't really HAVE to read the first one to read the second, etc., although it is more enjoyable that way.  
**

* * *

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just play the tsungi horn in Lt. Jee's traveling band.**

* * *

Ozai's days were, of course, very busy, and he reveled in it. Ruling the Fire Nation was everything that he had hoped it would be. In the war he began to take a very personal interest; he was determined, like his brother before him, to be the Fire Lord to end the war. Also, like Iroh, he felt that the conquest of Ba Sing Se was integral to winning the war. However, unlike Iroh, he did not believe that an all-out assault would accomplish this. He must be wily and _think_ differently from his brother to accomplish that. He must use the Fire Nation's very _superiority_ to quash the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom. He would defeat them by using his _mind_, not just his element.

Ozai even enjoyed the other aspects of ruling – the day-to-day minutiae of running a country. He relished making decisions and sitting in judgment of others; however, he was little interested in how the general populace was impacted by his decisions. He would gladly choose the needs of his armed forces over those of the public. After all, he reasoned, once the army and navy had won the war, the lifestyle of his people would improve greatly – besides, a little sacrifice never hurt anyone. He had had to sacrifice his wife – why shouldn't the citizens of the Fire Nation give up a little food or some gold coins? It was for the good of the nation, after all.

The only blemish on Ozai's happiness was a ten-year old boy with his father's eyes and his mother's temperament.

Zuko still mourned his mother greatly, and despite himself, Ozai was worried about his son. It would not do for Zuko to sink into a deep depression. He was the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation now, and should act accordingly. Strength and resilience should be his hallmarks, not sentimentality and mawkishness!

Ozai was almost glad that Ursa was gone; now he, Ozai, would have a chance to mold Zuko into the man that he should be. A man in the cast of his father: ambitious and cunning. Those qualities had paved a path to the throne for Ozai, and would carve a future for him that would result in his standing as one of the greatest Fire Lords of all time. That history should see Ozai as a great man was of utmost importance to the Fire Lord – he wanted statues erected, he wanted _entire _books written, he wanted a place in history that would last a thousand years and beyond.

He wanted an heir more suited to rule than his son.

He wanted a son more like his daughter. It was really a pity that he could not leave the throne to Azula; she was born to rule – in her demeanor, in her actions, in her thoughts. She was a true heir to Sozin, and a fit heir for Ozai. However, women were forbidden to rule, and so Zuko it would have to be.

The first thing that Ozai decided to do was change Zuko's education. Piandao would have to go – he was a spy for Iroh, Ozai was certain.

Feng was waiting for Piandao when the sword master attempted to enter the palace.

Guards barred Piandao's way with long pikes.

Piandao raised a brow. "What is the meaning of this?""

Feng stepped forward, a supercilious smile on his face. "Your services are no longer required, Master Piandao."

"Indeed," Piandao said, his eyes coolly surveying all potential combatants. "And to whom may I attribute this decision?"

Feng puffed himself up. "Fire Lord Ozai."

Piandao inclined his head. "I accede to his request."

Feng's smile widened maliciously. "It is not a request, Master Piandao. It is an _order_."

Piandao did not take the bait. "Please extend my greetings to Prince Zuko."

"Oh, I will, Master Piandao. I will."

Piandao turned to go, but Feng's voice stopped him.

"Oh, Master Piandao, one more thing."

Piandao stopped and turned to face the tutor. He knew that, should he care to, he could remove the heads of Feng and both guards before they could even react. He chose not to.

"The Fire Lord thinks that it would be a good idea for you to, how did he put it? Oh, yes. _Expand_ your teaching beyond the capital, to the outer islands."

Piandao's blood ran cold for a moment, but he remained composed. He was being exiled.

"Think of it as a _vacation_, Master Piandao. Training farmers in the morning, and playing –_ pai sho_, perhaps, every evening." Feng's eyes turned ice cold.

Piandao bowed slightly, and turned to go. He would leave today, quietly, but he vowed that he would return. He would live, to plan and fight another day.

* * *

So, although Zuko's basic education did not change, an emphasis was put on the martial arts. Ozai's own firebending teacher, a strict disciplinarian who brooked no weakness, was brought in for Prince. Although Zuko had a difficult time at first adapting to the man's teaching techniques, he was, as his mother and uncle had always known, a fighter, and he redoubled his efforts to master his element. No task was too much for Zuko. If his master told Zuko to practice two hours a day, Zuko practiced three. However, despite this, Zuko could see his sister outstripping him in firebending skill. She had perfected a technique that allowed her to produce very hot, blue flames, which Zuko envied greatly, but which he could not reproduce. However, he comforted himself with the knowledge that neither his father nor Iroh used this method.

A new swordmaster was brought in, as well, and, even though Zuko missed Piandao keenly, he adapted to this man's teaching. He worked almost feverishly to master the dao swords. His intention, one day, was to find Piandao and show him his progress, and earn his praise.

His hand-to-hand combat was not neglected, either. He learned strategies for the use of the dagger in close fighting, and learned the proper way to disable opponents without firebending. Even though he hoped never to be without firebending, he knew that, in certain situations, such as during a rainstorm, firebending was unreliable.

With such rigorous scheduling, Zuko had little time to dwell on his sadness, for which he was grateful. He fell into bed every night, exhausted, and, as Lan Chi had promised, his mother visited him in his dreams.

* * *

The same day that Hua visited Lan Chi at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, Zuko's firebending master was due to give a speech at the Royal Fire Academy, so Zuko was left with a free afternoon. He decided to take this time to write a letter to his cousin, Lan Chi. As a polite and well-mannered young man, he felt obliged to thank her for her kindness to him the night of Azulon's funeral. He also wanted to see her again – that he couldn't deny to himself. Even though they were mostly strangers, he felt an odd kinship with her that extended beyond their honorary familial connection. In the compassion in her eyes, he saw someone – the only one left in his life – who seemed to know him for _who_ he was, and accept it.

He spread a sheet of parchment, and, with his favorite brushes and a bottle of ink next to him, he started his letter.

_Dear Lan Chi,_

No. Too personal. He took another sheet of parchment.

_Dear Lady Lan Chi,_

No. _Too_ formal. Another sheet.

_Dear Cousin,_

That might be good. But, wait. Azula was also her cousin. What if Lan did not know who it was from? _Well, you'll sign it "Zuko," idiot_, he told himself.

Okay. _Dear Cousin_, it was.

_Dear Cousin,_

_I wanted to thank you for your help the other night._

No. That was stupid. He threw that sheet aside, got another, and wrote the salutation on it. He sat there for a long minute, trying to think how to begin.

_I enjoyed seeing you the other night._

No. Still stupid.

_How are you doing? I am feeling better, thanks to you._

Not bad. She'd know what he meant by _thanks to you_.

_Things are strange without Mom here._

That was true.

_Azula acts like nothing is wrong. Except me. I'm always wrong, according to Azula_.

Lan didn't need to know that. Maybe he shouldn't mention Azula at all. She and Lan did not get along very well, after all. _Who_ did Azula get along with? _That_ was a short list.

He threw that page aside and started over, re-writing what he had already decided.

What to say next? He knew what he really wanted to say. _Thank you for holding my hand. Thank you for listening to me. Thank you for staying until I fell asleep. I want to see you again._ But he couldn't say that. He couldn't say any of that.

He sighed. What could he say?

_I know it is strange for you, too, with Lu Ten dying and Uncle being gone. _Maybe he shouldn't mention Lu Ten, either. He didn't want to make her sad. Sadder.

Luckily, he had a lot of parchment.

Rewrite number six. Or maybe it was seven.

_Dear Cousin,_

_How are you doing? I am feeling better, thanks to you. Things are strange without Mom here. I know it is strange for you, too, with Uncle being _–

– not _gone_ – what could he say – _away_? Away was good.

– _with Uncle being away_.

He twirled the brush in his fingers.

_I was wondering if you'd like to come have tea with me. _

_Tea? Have tea with me_? Was that pathetic? Did she drink tea? _Of course she drinks tea – she lives with Uncle. Okay, inviting her for tea is okay._ Maybe she didn't have anyone to drink tea with anymore. When should she come? _How about today_ – no, that sounded desperate.

_I have lessons everyday until two hours past midday. I also have a lot of homework, but I can put that aside. You can come any day you want._

That was better. Not much better, but better. Had he forgotten anything? He had asked how she was. Check. He had told her how he was. Check. He had thanked her for the other night. Check. He had invited her for tea. Check. Told her when he was free. Check. Should he tell her that he really wanted to see her again? Would that be weird? No weirder than anything else in his life, he supposed. Why not?

_I'd really like to see you again._

He chewed on the end of his brush idly. Should he say anything else? No. Better not. He didn't want to ramble, or sound stupid.

Now for his signature. But he just couldn't say _Zuko_ without anything in front of it. How about _your cousin, Zuko_? No. He had already said _cousin_. _Yours truly_? That made him sound like he was 45 years old. _Yours affectionately_? No. That sounded – strange. Maybe _yours truly_ was better. Everything he had written was true, after all. Okay.

_Yours truly,_

_Zuko_

He looked over the whole letter critically, judging the wording, the handwriting, and the overall feel of it. _It's okay, I guess_. He sighed, and read the entire letter to himself.

_Dear Cousin,_

_How are you doing? I am feeling better, thanks to you. Things are strange without Mom here. I know it is strange for you, too, with Uncle being away. I was wondering if you'd like to come have tea with me. I have lessons everyday until two hours past midday. I also have a lot of homework, but I can put that aside. You can come any day you want. I'd really like to see you again._

_Yours truly,_

_Zuko_

It was okay. Not a masterpiece. Not the best letter he'd ever written. But, it got the point across, and that's all that mattered.

He folded it carefully, and got out his personal seal and sealing wax. With a flick of his hand, he brought forth a flame, and held the wax over the letter. A lump of it dripped onto the paper, and he pressed his seal into it. Done. Now all he had to do was find a servant to take it to Uncle's quarters.

He looked at the detritus of his letter writing around him. Rejected pieces of parchment littered the floor. He picked them up, threw them into a small metal trash can, brought forth another flame, and watched as they burned.

* * *

The letter that Zuko wrote was never seen by its recipient. The Prince sent the letter by messenger to his Uncle's home, where Hua received it. Unsure of whether or not Lan was allowed to receive letters from Prince Zuko, she enclosed it with a letter of her own, destined for the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. She sent it off with one of the houseboys, who returned hours later with the letter. Lan was apparently forbidden from receiving letters from home, and Hua dutifully sent Zuko's letter back with a small note of apology. She did not mention, in her letter, the real reason that Lan had been sent to the Academy; only that Lan had started attending the school, and that she was not, at this point in her schooling, allowed letters or visitors.

Zuko was miffed. _He _was the Prince of the Fire Nation! How dare the school say that Lan could not accept a letter from him? And what was Lan doing at the Academy, anyway? She had not mentioned the school when he had seen her. She had _definitely_ not mentioned boarding at the school!

Zuko still wanted her to have the letter, and he had a fleeting idea of giving the letter to Azula to deliver, but decided against it. He neither liked nor trusted his sister, and he knew that _she_ disliked Lan intensely. Azula would probably take delight in burning the letter before Lan's eyes, then taunting her about it. Zuko also considered approaching Mai or Ty Lee about delivering the letter, but decided against that as well. Those girls were completely intimidated by Azula, and would not dare gainsay her.

He even contemplated visiting the school himself, and forcing them to allow him to see Lan, but wisely decided against that course of action as well. In the end, he folded the letter and hid it among his belongings, to give to her at a later date – to show her that he had been thinking about her.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** We take a break from following Lan Chi this chapter to be a fly on Zuko's and Ozai's walls. I hope that I have provided insight into both those characters that is consistent with their portrayals in the show.

I hope that you do not think that there is no "romance" in this story. When Lan Chi and Zuko finally (spoiler!) come together, and I promise you that they will, it will be a force of nature – and anticipation makes everything sweeter!

Also, for anyone wondering about Iroh, he will be back in a big way soon! Iroh's down, but he's not out, by any means! No, not at all!

By the way, I know this is a short chapter. The next one is extra long!

By the way, did you notice how I was able to get Piandao to the island where Sokka meets him six or so years later? Pretty nifty trick, if I do say so myself!


	9. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just recruit for the Freedom Fighters. Sign here, please. Welcome!**

* * *

On a cloudy Monday, Lan walked into Advanced Calligraphy class for the first time. She had been promoted out of the elementary calligraphy class when the teacher saw her skill, and this was her first day in the new class. She entered the room with her new textbook and pens clutched beneath her arm. The class was already in session, and 21 pairs of eyes turned to her.

Including Azula's. The Princess's eyes narrowed at the sight of her adopted cousin, and a small, malevolent smile came over her face. Lan Chi groaned silently.

"Ah, Lady Lan Chi. Welcome!" The teacher clapped her hands to gain the class's attention. "Girls! We have a new student today. Please make Lady Lan Chi Sun feel welcome!"

"Welcome." A smattering of voices echoed.

"That does not sound very welcoming! Again, please, with feeling!"

Lan cringed as a falsely hearty _welcome_ rang through the room.

"Much better, girls! Lan Chi, there's an empty seat in the back."

Lan Chi shuffled to the back of the classroom, and settled down on a cushion in the back row. She quietly laid her things down on the low desk as the teacher launched back into a lecture on the perfect way to make the curve of the character that meant _dragon_.

One of her roommates waved at her from the end of the row, and she smiled back weakly. She did not know the girls on either side of her, but she could see the back of Azula's head three rows in front of her. Azula's evil head. Attached to her evil body.

"Blech," Lan said quietly.

The girl next to Lan looked at her darkly.

Lan sighed and tried to pick up the thread of the teacher's words.

* * *

After class, she took a long time gathering up her things, hoping that Azula would leave first, and that she could avoid Zuko's sister completely. That was not to be, however. Azula came to her desk and smiled down at her condescendingly.

"I wanted to come over here and give you a proper welcome, cousin!" Azula's voice was treacly sweet.

Lan did not know what to say. "Uh, thank you, Azula."

Azula's lips pursed. "I think you mean _Princess _Azula."

Lan rolled her eyes. "_Princess _Azula."

"I'm sooo glad you've started here! And how convenient for you that you are boarding! We dayschoolers have to get up early _every day_ to come here from our homes. Oh, but I forgot! _You _don't have a home. Both your parents are dead and Uncle Iroh abandoned you."

Lan jumped up. "He did not abandon me! He'll be back – he's just upset about Lu Ten! Not like you – you don't care about anyone but yourself. You don't even care that your own mother just died!"

Smoke, from Azula's fingertips, curled around her books. "Do you expect me to lie around crying like a baby, like _Zuko_?"

"At least he has a heart!"

"And are you trying to worm your way into it? Or just into his bedroom?" She spun on her heel and stomped away.

Lan's eyes widened, and she ran after Azula. She grabbed her shoulder and swung her around. "It was _you_! _You_ told your father I was there!"

"As if I would've let you get away with it! My brother might be stupid, but he shouldn't be stuck with a _dirty half-breed_ like you for the rest of his life!"

"Take it back." Lan said, her voice low and dangerous.

"Why? It's true. Your father turned his back on the Fire Nation and chose a wife from an inferior tribe. And looked what they produced: _you_. No bending, and that _ridiculous _hair color. A punishment from the spirits for being the mixture of two races."

"My mother and father loved each other, and when she died, at least he had the decency to _mourn _her."

"You think my father should lie around boo-hooing all day, too?"

"He should have allowed a funeral for her. But he doesn't care, and neither do you. You're exactly alike."

"And don't ever forget it."

"Some day, Azula, you'll be sorry you treated people like this."

"Is that a threat? Try something, and you'll find yourself sent so far away that this place will look like paradise!"

Lan fumed. She knew that Azula was telling the truth. Ozai could have her sent to an outpost in the Earth Kingdom if he wanted.

Azula smiled smugly. "I didn't think so." She turned and walked away.

* * *

Lan's eleventh birthday came and went during this time, without a note or any word from Uncle Iroh. She despaired ever hearing from him again. She also realized that Zuko had turned eleven as well; his birthday was exactly nine weeks before her own. She dared not send him a card – she could see Ozai setting fire to it.

Lan's days turned into a routine. She got up every morning, was ignored by her roommates (who knew better than to befriend an enemy of the Princess), dressed in the hated Academy uniform, had breakfast alone, and then went to classes. In class she was snubbed until lunch, when she was ostracized. After lunch, she went back to class, where she was again excluded. After classes, she did her homework alone in the meditation garden if the weather was clement or in the library if it was raining, thus avoiding the pretense of socializing with her unfriendly classmates. After that, she went to dinner, and, after eating alone, she returned to her room to read until curfew, which was an hour after sunset.

Lan began to hate the world. She missed Uncle Iroh and Lu Ten desperately, and she did not even know if she would ever see her uncle again. She missed her uncle's servants, her room, her studies with the royal tutors, and everything from the outside world. She missed talking to people – no one talked to her unless absolutely necessary, and her loneliness was turning into bitterness and cynicism.

Lan was distrustful of everyone – everyone seemed to have an ulterior motive. More than once, girls had pretended to be friendly, only to later spurn her or ridicule her, on behalf of Azula.

One evening after dinner, she was in her room alone, reading, when one of her roommates came in. She was a girl the same age, named Ling. Lan groaned silently – she really preferred if her three roommates did not return to the room until near curfew. That was the best way to avoid awkward silences and other conflicts.

Ling came in, sat down on her mat, across from Lan, and looked at her expectantly. After a few long moments, Lan glanced at her. She went back to her book, but the girl's eyes stayed on her.

"What?" Lan demanded, putting her book down.

Ling looked away. "Nothing."

"Okay." She picked her book back up, but felt Ling's eyes on her again. This time she _threw_ the book down. "What do you want?" She was not in the mood for harassment.

Ling colored. "I – I just wanted to tell you that – Princess Azula rules this place, you know?"

"I know." Did she ever.

"And, a lot of girls would like, you know, to be your friend and all, but Princess Azula has told them if they were nice to you, she'd _punish_ them."

"Punish them, huh?" Lan sighed. "Azula's good at punishing people."

"I know." She rushed on. "And – and, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

Lan looked at her suspiciously. "If I say _you're forgiven_, is Azula going to jump out from a closet and throw a fireball at me?"

The girl smiled slightly. "Not that I know of."

"Okay." Lan picked up her book again, and began reading it.

"I can't talk to you when anyone else is around, though."

"Of course." Lan continued reading.

"But I can talk to you when we're alone."

Lan turned a page. "Does that mean you want to talk?"

"I don't really have many friends here."

"You have more than I do." She was trying to keep her mind on what the book was saying.

"That's true." She regarded Lan. "Why does the Princess hate you so much?"

"Does she need a reason?" Another page turned.

"No, I guess not. She just seems to hate you more than anyone else."

"We're related, sort of. I guess it's kind of a family feud."

Ling's eyes opened wide and she goggled at Lan. "You're a member of the royal family?"

"Kind of. Prince Lu Ten was my cousin. My uncle is Prince, er, General, er – the Fire Lord's brother." She finished finally.

"Ohhhh! That explains it!"

"It explains what?"

"Why Princess Azula hates you. Wasn't Prince Iroh supposed to be Fire Lord?"

She concentrated on the book. "Supposed to be."

"Hmmm. Maybe Azula sees you as a rival."

"A rival? Don't be ridiculous. Azula's a princess. Even if my uncle had become Fire Lord, I _still_ wouldn't be a princess."

"I'm not saying it's logical. I'm just saying that might be the reason Azula hates you."

"Maybe." Lan decided to let it go at that. She could never tell anyone the _real_ reason why Azula hates her.

"Where are you from?" Ling asked suddenly.

"I live at – _lived _at the palace."

"You _lived at the palace_?" She was incredulous.

"Yeah."

"Wow." Ling breathed. "Is it beautiful there?"

Lan turned a page. "Yes."

"So sharing a room is new for you, I guess."

"I had my own room." She decided to try to impress Ling, although she had no reason. "I had my own wing."

"Wow." Ling repeated. A thought came to her. "So why do you live here instead of at home?"

Lan glanced at her. "It's complicated."

"I'm from the Hu San Province. My parents betrothed me to a boy from the city, so they sent me here for _town polish_."

"Lucky you."

Ling shrugged. "At least it's not as boring here as it is at home. The most exciting thing at home is the harvest. And, believe me, _that's_ not fun."

"I can imagine." She turned the page.

Ling was quiet for a long time, looking at her. "Is it true you were sent here because of a boy?"

Lan closed the book and straightened. "Where did you hear that?"

Ling shrugged. "I don't know. Around, I guess. Lots of people are saying it."

Lan frowned. "_People_ talk too much."

"Is it true?"

She blushed. "It might be."

Ling smiled. "Is he cute?"

Lan looked away. "I don't know. I guess."

"What's his name?" She leaned forward in excitement.

Lan shook her head. "I'd rather not say."

Ling looked intrigued. "Why? Do I know him?"

Reason asserted itself. "I really can't talk about it."

"Is it someone I know?"

Lan shrugged. "You might."

"Huh." She thought for a moment. "I don't know a lot of people in the city."

Lan sighed. "Don't bother trying to guess. I won't tell you even if you do."

Ling snapped her fingers. "Wait. He goes to the Royal Fire Academy, doesn't he?"

Lan was relieved that Ling had not guessed. "I _really _am not going to say."

"Was it a boy at the last mixer? Ooh! I know! Is it Admiral Chan's son?"

"I can't tell you!"

Ling looked speculative. "Okay. But he's cute?"

Lan grinned suddenly, and Ling clapped her hands. "Oh, he is! I knew it! What color is his hair?"

"It's black."

"And what about his eyes?"

Lan looked off into the distance. "They look like – gold."

"Oh, he sounds cute!"

Lan folded her legs underneath her and looked down. "He really is." She smiled.

"So how did you end up here?"

Lan flushed. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

She crossed her heart.

"If you tell anyone, I'm going to be mad. And if you think Azula's the only one who can punish you, think again."

"I won't. I promise."

"We spent the night together."

She hands flew up to her mouth. "You what?"

She averted her eyes again, suddenly embarrassed. "I spent the night in his bedroom."

"Oh, my goodness! What happened?"

"His father found me and I got into _big_ trouble."

"No – I mean what happened in his bedroom?"

Lan's color heightened. "Ling!"

"Sorry! I'm curious! Did you – _you know_?"

Lan had only recently learned, from listening to her roommates' giggles and whispers, what happened between men and women. "_What_? _No_! I wouldn't – we wouldn't – _do that_. I'm only eleven!"

"So? I'm eleven, too, and I've been betrothed for two years."

"But I wouldn't – no, we didn't do _that_."

"But what happened? Did you kiss him?"

She plucked at a string on her sleeve. "Yes."

"Was it nice?"

She was red to her ears now. "Yes. Very nice."

"Is he the only boy you ever kissed?"

"Yes. He's really the only boy I've ever _known_, besides Lu Ten."

"Are you going to marry him?"

A dark look came over Lan's face. "No. His father doesn't think I'm good enough for him."

"But if you love each other…"

Lan held her hands up. "Whoa. I don't love Zu – him. And he doesn't love me. It was just –" she shrugged. " – something that happened. And it's over. End of story."

Ling shook her head. "I don't believe you."

Lan looked at her evenly. "Fine. Don't believe me. I don't care. Nothing can ever happen between me and him. It's just impossible."

* * *

One day, several months after opening up to Ling, Lan was sitting by herself, as usual, at lunch. Ling had continued to be friendly towards her, but not when anyone else was around. Lan didn't blame her – she knew what it was like to be on Azula's bad side, and that is definitely where Ling would have been had the princess learned that Ling was being nice to her avowed enemy.

This day, Princess Azula and her friends were sitting at another table, watching Lan through narrowed eyes.

"She is _too _proud of that hair," said Lady Mai, who, as was, as usual, sitting with Azula.

"It's a sign of vanity." Azula asserted. "With her background, she should be hiding it. She should treat it as a mark of _shame_."

"What are you going to do, Azula?" Ty Lee asked.

"Watch and learn, girls."

Azula left the dining room and headed to the kitchen. She approached the head cook, who looked at her with surprise.

"Princess Azula! What are you doing here?"

The princess put on her doe eyes. "I have an orange that I would _really _like to share with my friends, but I haven't got a knife to cut it. May I borrow one? I'll bring it right back," she hastened to add.

"How sweet, your highness, to share with your friends. Of course you can borrow one." She opened out a drawer and pulled out a wicked-looking, short blade. "This should do the trick."

Azula examined it with interest. "Oh, yes. This should do _nicely_."

She concealed the knife beneath her robe, and walked back to her table. She kept her eyes glued on Lan. "You two hold her down." Her friends rose, and they all approached Lan at her table.

Azula slid in next to her, while Mai and Ty Lee stood behind Lan.

"Hello, Cousin," Azula's voice was silky.

Lan looked at her warily. "What do you want, Azula?"

Azula gave an innocent frown. "I feel _so _bad about all our little _disagreements_, Lan. I just wanted to apologize. After all, we _are_ family, and family should stick together, don't you think?"

Lan turned to look fully at her, perplexed. "Uh, thank you, Azula. That's very – nice of you."

"And we," she indicated her friends, "just wanted to tell you that we think you're really pretty."

Lan's brows drew together. Something was not right here.

"It's really too bad that your hair is _that_ color. In fact, _we_ think you would look better without it."

Dawning horror came over Lan just as the other girls grabbed hold of her. She started to struggle.

She tried to pull her arms away, but Mai and Ty Lee were too much for her. They dragged her to the ground and pinned her down. She yelled for help, but none of the other girls in the dining hall came to her aid. They just watched and continued eating, some interested, some scared.

Azula forced Lan's head to the side and grabbed her braid.

"No!" Lan pleaded. "Don't." She thrashed around, trying to throw Azula off.

"Stop moving or I might accidentally cut your throat, _Cousin_." Azula sneered. She put the blade of the knife on the other side of Lan's braid and pulled. Lan felt a tug, heard a swish, and then the heaviness of her hair was gone.

The girls released her immediately, and she sat up. Azula stood before her, the long red braid swinging in her hand.

"You know what, girls?" Azula said smugly. "We were wrong. She looks better _with _it." She tossed the braid contemptuously into Lan's lap and walked away, followed by her cohorts, laughing.

Lan looked down at the hair in her lap, tears already blurring its shape.

* * *

"Ladies, ladies, settle down! Settle down!" The headmistress came into the cafeteria and clapped her hands, and the girls began to quiet.

Lan Chi, who had been sitting by herself against a wall, reading a book, did not bother to look up.

The headmistress attempted a smile. "Now, I know that most of you have been _fretting_ because we have not had any evening extra-curricular activities yet this year." A general murmuring was heard, and the headmistress clapped again. "Keep it down! Keep it _down_!" She straightened her shoulders and continued. "I am happy to report that, two weeks from Friday, we will be holding our annual mixer with the boys from the Royal Fire Academy."

There was a whoop of joy, and Lan finally looked up.

The headmistress continued. "As you know, last year's mixer was canceled due to an – _incident_ at the Royal Fire Academy, but the headmaster there and I have decided that we will let this year's go forward, _provided _both schools continue to demonstrate worthiness."

More shouts of happiness, and even clapping, came from the crowd.

"Simmer down! Simmer down!" The girls ignored their leader. "If you are not quiet _right now_, I will cancel the entire mixer! I will!"

There was finally silence. The headmistress smiled again. "That's better. As I said, the mixer will be a week from next Friday, at sunset, and we are honored to be hosting the mixer this year at our school. Which means," mutterings began again, and she was obliged to raise her voice. "Which means that you ladies will be responsible for decorating the bending hall, the music, and also for any refreshments. Any students wishing to sign up for any of these committees may do so at my office." She nodded. "Let's do our school proud! Have a good afternoon, girls."

The talking began in earnest again, as the students began making plans for the mixer. Lan looked around at all the excited faces, and could not help but feel some exhilaration. A mixer sounded like fun. Maybe she would meet some nice boy – some nice boy who was _not_ related to Ozai. Even if she didn't, it might be fun to listen to some music, drink some punch, and eat some cookies.

One of the cooks came out of the kitchen and rang a large bell, signaling the end of lunch. Lan gathered up her things and made her way to music class, which she had been forced to take rather than self-defense and fighting. It was her least favorite class – which was saying something, since she was really not overly fond of any of her classes. It was not that she did not like music; on the contrary, she loved music. However, she _hated _playing music. She had taken basic music lessons on the flute when she was younger but, having found no aptitude for it, she had given it up readily. Unfortunately, due to her late start at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, not only was she forced into music class, she was also forced to play the tsungi horn. It was, apparently, the one instrument that no one had chosen to play. For good reason, Lan soon found out. It was loud and heavy, and most of its notes were discordant. And she was terrible at it. It sounded like nothing more than old plumbing pipes squeaking in her hands.

She took her seat at the back of the classroom, and reluctantly hefted the tsungi horn onto her shoulder. Her classmates all settled around her, and the teacher came in, flustered.

"I apologize, girls, for being late. I have just been informed," she put her hand on her podium, as if for support, "that we will be performing at the mixer." Her voice was strangled.

Groans and wails came from the girls, including Lan. Having fun at the mixer did not include playing this blasted horn!

"Why do we have to play?" A flutist asked.

"We won't be able to _mix_! We'll be playing these stupid instruments!" A lute player scowled.

"What about having fun?" Asked another girl.

Lan could have echoed each of their concerns, but remained silent.

The teacher waved both her hands. "I know. I know! But we will only be playing a _few _songs. The headmistress has promised."

Disgruntled groans still came from the girls.

"Well, which songs will we be playing?" Asked one of Lan's classmates.

"Ah, well, as to that," the teacher cleared her throat, "we will be playing _Fire Nation, We Beseech Thee_, and _Upon These Sceptered Hills_, and um, let me see, _Spirits Save the Fire Lord_."

"Ugh." The drummer next to Lan said. "I hate that song. It's a million years old."

Lan smiled. It was a horrible old song that sounded like a funeral dirge.

The teacher drummed her baton on the podium. "All right, girls. You should all still have the sheet music for _Fire Nation, We Beseech Thee_. Let's start with that one."

After class, Lan was called back by her teacher. "A word, Lady Lan Chi."

Mistress Zhi had always been kind and respectful to Lan, and therefore Lan was not apprehensive of being kept behind.

"Yes, Ma'am?" She bowed, as was the custom.

Mistress Zhi looked at her and took a deep breath. "Lady Lan Chi," she began, "how long have you been in my class?"

"This is my second year, Ma'am."

"Second year," she repeated. "Two years you have been playing the tsungi horn. Do you like playing it?"

Lan shook her head. "No, Ma'am, I honestly do not."

Mistress Zhi nodded. "And you are not very good at it."

"No, Ma'am, I am not." She would not disagree.

"Now, Lady Lan Chi, please take what I am about to say as a _positive _statement."

"Yes, Ma'am." Lan was confused.

"I enjoy having you in my class. I really do. You are generally pleasant, and very courteous, and I appreciate that. However," she smiled kindly, "I absolutely abhor your playing."

Lan grimaced.

"Now, don't be upset. It's just that, with the headmistress _forcing_ us to play at the mixer," she gritted her teeth, "I think it might be best if you transferred into another class."

Lan's hopes suddenly soared. Leave music class? It was a dream come true!

"Therefore," Mistress Zhi continued, "I have found you a spot in Master Jiao Ao's self-defense and fighting class."

_Self-defense and fighting_? Now it truly was a dream come true. Lan dropped her books on the floor and threw her arms around the teacher impulsively. "Mistress Zhi! Thank you! I love you!" She gave the teacher a loud buss on the cheek. "When do I start? When do I start?"

Mistress Zhi looked at her in shock. "To-tomorrow."

Lan threw her arms in the air. "Tomorrow? That's great!" She started to gather up her books, then realized that her excessive response might have been construed as insulting to the teacher. "Not that I won't miss you, Mistress. I will! Oh, I will! But _self-defense and fighting_! Thank you!"

* * *

However, at the height of Lan Chi's joy, the almost unthinkable occurred. That day, after her last class, she was called to the headmistress's office. Terrified that the headmistress had found about the change in her schedule, Lan dragged herself to the office.

Girls were gathered around a bulletin board, scribbling their names down on the various mixer committee sign-up sheets. Azula and Ty Lee were there, although Lan saw no sign of Lady Mai. Mai was not exactly the volunteering type, Lan reflected. Of course, neither was she.

Azula saw her, and gave her a reptilian smile. "Excited about the mixer, Lady Lan Chi?" Her voice was falsely friendly.

"Not really." Lan thought it prudent to seem disinterested.

"Maybe it's best that way." Azula said, and Ty Lee snickered. "What with your _hair_ looking like _that_."

Lan's hair, still too short to stay in a braid, was now just a short queue at her nape.

She opened her mouth to say something, but, luckily, the headmistress's secretary escorted her into her employer's office.

She started to sit when the door closed, but the headmistress indicated that she should stand. "This won't take more than a minute." She folded her hands on the desk. "The Fire Lord thinks it best that you not attend the mixer."

"What? Why?" Lan was genuinely disappointed.

"He feels that it might – _interfere_ with your rehabilitation."

Anger flared inside Lan, but, with effort, she remained calm.

"You are to go to your room immediately after classes the day of the mixer, and stay there until the following morning. Is that clear?"

Lan nodded sullenly.

"I said, _is that clear_?" The headmistress's voice was harsh.

Lan looked directly at her. "Yes, Ma'am. _Crystal clear_." She snarled. "May I be excused?"

The headmistress waved the back of her fingers at Lan, dismissing her.

Lan stomped out of her office. Azula and Ty Lee were lingering around the sign-up sheets, along with several other girls. Lan pushed past them.

"See you at the mixer, Lan." Azula smiled sweetly.

Lan stopped. Suddenly, Azula's words from earlier came back to her. She had known. She had known that Lan was going to be barred from the mixer. She had known – probably because she had told her father to bar her.

Her fingers itched to pull water out of a nearby vase and turn it into ice daggers. Ice daggers aimed straight for Azula's black, black heart. She was sick – sick to death of swallowing her anger and pain. Sick to death of allowing Azula and Ozai to bully her and make her life miserable. Sick of being stuck in this beastly school, surrounded by these awful people. Sick, sick, sick, sick, sick.

She drew in a deep breath, and walked away.

* * *

However, the next day dawned bright and sunny, and Lan awoke happy. She was happy because this was the day that she was going to start self-defense and fighting class. It was a class she was going to enjoy; a class in which she could excel.

She chafed at the inactivity forced on her by her morning classes, and she could barely eat lunch. When the bell rang to release the students from the dining room, she raced to the bending hall, a cavernous room ringed with windows. She was the first student there, and she bowed in front of Master Jiao Ao.

"Master Jiao Ao." She made the traditional Fire Nation hand salute. "I am honored to be in your class."

His eyes raked down her from head to toe. "Lady Lan Chi Sun, I presume." His voice was cold, and Lan's stomach dropped.

_Please, please, please don't let him be a friend of Ozai's._

He continued. "I had the privilege of serving under your father in my youth."

Lan breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Master."

"I understand that you have studied quite extensively under Master Piandao."

"Yes, Master. I was very fortunate."

"Yes, fortunate indeed. He is the greatest swordsman in the Fire Nation. We were at school together, you know."

A smile split her face.

"Well, Lady Lan Chi, while we wait for your classmates, would you care to show me what you learned from my old friend?"

Lan Chi was quite happy to show Master Jiao Ao all that she knew. Although she was rusty from not even picking up a blade for almost a year and a half, after a week or so of classes, she had regained much of her skill. She easily became the best student in the class. None of her fellow students could boast even half of her experience, and she put that knowledge to good use. Towards those girls who had mistreated her in the past, she showed little mercy. Two to three swipes of the dagger and a twist of the arm or wrist were usually sufficient to either disarm them or cause them to forfeit.

Her roommate, Ling, was in the class, and, because of her past kindness to Lan, she did not have to face her wrath. Instead, Lan started teaching her proper technique during lunch, of which Master Jiao Ao approved.

Four days before the mixer, Ling came skipping into the bending hall. "Lan, have you heard?"

Lan threw a dagger into a target. "Bullseye! Have I heard what?"

"Who is coming to the mixer?"

"Is that a question?" Lan retrieved her weapon.

"What?" Ling was confused. "Are you asking me?"

"I thought you were asking me. Never mind." She picked up several throwing stars and sunk them, one after another, into the target. "No, I haven't heard, and, to be frank, I don't care. I'm not going to the mixer."

She walked over to the target and yanked the stars out with more force than necessary.

"Not going? Are you serious? Why not?"

Lan folded her arms across her chest. "Because I have been banned. Apparently, the headmistress thinks that I'll corrupt the boys from the Royal Fire Academy."

Ling pulled a face. "That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard."

"I agree. But," she threw her hands up. "There is nothing I can do about it." She walked back to the throwing line, and lifted her arm up to launch a star.

"That stinks. Now you won't get to see Prince Zuko."

Lan staggered forward, and her throw went wild, burying the star in the wall.

"Whoa! Lan! You almost hit me!" Ling jumped back.

"Did you say Prince Zuko?" Lan asked in a shaky voice.

Just then, the bell that started class sounded, and the two girls scrambled to pick up the various weapons. Lan, whose mind went blank as soon as she heard the word _Zuko_, inadvertently cut herself on the edge of a star.

"Come on, Lan. Get a move on." Ling started sorting the weapons into their proper places.

"I cut myself." Lan said unsteadily.

Ling grabbed her hand and examined it. "You'll live. But maybe you should go see the nurse. Master Jiao Ao, Lan's cut herself. I think that she should see the nurse."

Master Jiao Ao, who had just entered, nodded after looking at the wound. "It is very minor, Lady Lan Chi, but perhaps _you_ should get it looked at." He squinted at her with concern. "You have never cut yourself in class, my lady. Are you entirely well?"

Lan gazed at him without really seeing him. "Yes," she nodded slowly. "I'll go to the nurse."

She left the bending hall in a daze, but, instead of going to the nurse, she went to her room.

Zuko! Zuko was coming here – to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls! To the mixer that she had been forbidden to attend!

She dropped down on her futon and covered her face with her hands. What was wrong with her? Just the sound of his name had caused her to nearly kill the only friend she had. And cut herself! She belatedly looked at her hand. Blood was trickling from the webbing between her middle and forefingers. She absently pulled water from a basin and healed the wound just enough to stop the blood. She couldn't heal it entirely; that would be too suspicious.

She fell back on her bed and curled into a ball. Zuko was coming, and she would not even be able to see him. But why did she care if she saw him? She had already vowed to stay away from him. Ozai had demonstrated, in no uncertain terms, that he objected to her involvement, on any level, with Zuko.

But she _wanted_ to see him. It had been almost a year and a half since she had laid eyes on him. How had he changed? He was probably taller. _She_ was taller; he was certain to be. Perhaps his voice had changed. Perhaps –

_Perhaps he is more like his father now._ A treacherous voice snaked into her brain.

_No_!

_Perhaps he hates you as much Ozai hates you._

She squeezed her eyes shut, but the thoughts kept coming. _Zuko hates you. Ozai hates you._

And with those thoughts came one that entered her mind with absolute clarity: she was in love with Zuko.

She groaned and hugged herself. Why? Why did she have to be in love with the _one_ boy in the Fire Nation that she could never, never, never, never have?

"Criminy," was her only response.

* * *

**Author's Note: **She's baaaaaaaaaaack! For those of you dreading (or looking forward to) Azula's return, here she is, in all of her malevolent glory! I hope that you are enjoying Lan Chi's miserable ride through the Fire Nation educational system. There is a reason Iroh wanted her schooled at home...

Anyway, we were introduced to Master Jiao Ao, the swordmaster at the Academy, who, besides Lan, has another favorite student – Mai (to whom I have given the title _Lady_ Mai – I hope she appreciates it!). Perhaps Mai and Lan Chi will face each other over blades some time soon – since they both have a VERY vested interest in a certain prince...

We also discovered what I have suspected for a long time: Lan Chi has fallen BIG TIME for Zuko. Bad luck that, as she says, he's the one boy she can't EVER have. Life stinks, eh?

For those of you who watch _The Legend of Korra_, please notice my use of Tenzin's favorite swear word, _criminy_. Sorry about that – I'll try to keep the swearing to a minimum.

Next stop: the forbidden mixer (nothing to do with baking, I swear). Okay – sorry. That was a bad pun. I apologize. I won't do it again.


	10. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just feed the turtleducks – but not the way Azula feeds them.**

* * *

Gentle Reader:

Thank you so much for allowing me to weave this tale of derring do and emotional turmoil for you. Thank you also to those who have reviewed this work. I appreciate you taking your valuable time to comment – I sincerely consider all that you say. I regret to inform that chapter 10 will come after the long weekend. It is currently kicking my butt around the room. Lan Chi and Zuko simply will not cooperate, and insist upon exercising free will.

However, after chapter 10 has released me from its claws, I hope to wing my way towards the end of Part One.

Happy Makorrial Day Weekend, all!

* * *

In the days leading up to the mixer, Lan Chi was miserable. Knowing that Zuko would be so close, yet inaccessible, was killing her.

She considered going to the headmistress and begging to be allowed to go, but rejected that idea. Lan knew that the headmistress would not relent, and might actually inflict more severe punishment, such as pulling her out of Master Jiao Ao's class. That she could not bear – the class had already become very important to her, and she would not have jeopardized that for a futile hope.

The giddy air of anticipation that permeated the school did nothing to help Lan Chi's mood. Decorations started to go up, girls were experimenting with new hairstyles, and gossip about the boys from the Academy was rampant.

The night before the event found Lan completely unable to concentrate on any of her studies, and she returned to her room, intending to crawl under the covers and cry herself to sleep.

Her plans were thwarted, however. Ling was there, bursting to chat about the upcoming party.

"I am so sorry that you aren't going, Lan. I really shouldn't even be talking about it with you. I don't want to make you feel bad."

Lan shook her head and lay down on her mat. "It's all right, Ling. I've had disappointments before. I'll survive. Go ahead and talk."

"My fiancé is going to be there. I haven't seen him since last summer! How do you think I should wear my hair?" She gathered her hair on her head.

Lan glanced at her. "That looks good. I'm sorry that I won't be able to meet him."

Ling shrugged. "That's okay. I don't know if I would be able to introduce you anyway – with Azula being there. "

"Yeah," Lan said, not caring. "You don't want to make Azula mad." There was just a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Ling did not seem to notice. "I am looking forward to seeing Prince Zuko, though. Everyone says that he is really handsome." She allowed her hair to drop. "Have you ever seen him?"

Lan turned her face into the pillow. "Once or twice," she said, nonchalantly.

"Oh. Is he good looking?" She peered at herself in the mirror. "Is that a spot?"

"I haven't seen him in a while." She turned onto her back, arms flung wide, and stared at the ceiling, picturing an older Zuko in her mind. "He might be, though. His father is _gorgeous_." The smile she gave was more of a grimace. "On the outside."

Ling must not have had not heard the last part, for she made no comment. Lan cursed herself silently – speaking against the Fire Lord in any way was treason.

"I thought he was coming because Azula had asked, but I hear he's coming because Lady Mai asked him."

Lan bolted upright and whirled to face Ling. "What do you mean _Mai asked him_?"

Ling's reflection looked at Lan. "They're dating – and she wants to show him off. At least that's what everyone is saying."

Lan's ears began to buzz. _Zuko is dating_ _Mai_. Could things get any worse?

" – and won't she be lucky if she marries him? Then she'll be queen." Lan caught only the end of Ling's statement.

Ling looked at her expectantly through the mirror. "Don't you think?"

Lan did not answer, and Ling turned to look at her, leaning against the vanity. "I know you don't like Mai since she helped Azula cut off your braid, but maybe you should try to be nice to her. She may marry Prince Zuko and be queen someday."

All color drained from Lan's face. "I – I have to go to the bathroom." She bolted off her bed and out of the room.

Luckily, the bathroom was deserted. The Royal Fire Academy for Girls boasted the most recent innovations, including indoor plumbing, and Lan ran to the basin and turned the faucet on. She splashed cool water on her face repeatedly, willing its soothing nature to calm her.

Mai was dating Zuko, and they might even get married. So much for Iroh's plans. So much for her own plans – her own plans, deep in her heart, that she had never allowed herself to _even _think about – that she and Zuko would some day, against all odds, be together.

_Don't be ridiculous, Lan Chi! You never had a prayer. The second Ozai ascended the throne, Zuko was as lost to you as Lu Ten._

Thoughts of Lu Ten and Zuko and Iroh and Ozai all crowded her head and she looked at herself in the mirror. There was another stranger there, with a face twisted by grief and hatred.

She slammed her palms down on the basin and screamed.

Water shot out of all the faucets and toilets, soaking the walls and the floor. It continued to gush out of the broken spigots, and Lan Chi looked at them in surprise.

She was becoming a powerful bender.

* * *

The day of the mixer, Lan was quieter and more sullen than usual. The bending hall had been decorated with streamers and lanterns and paper flowers, and it all put her in the foulest of moods. Especially repulsive to her was a banner welcoming the Royal Fire Academy, with a drawing of Ozai on one side. As if Ozai would be here himself! It was obviously an attempt to curry favor from Azula and Zuko. Lan blanched at the sight.

The students were practicing knife defense with wooden daggers, and Lan dispatched her opponents with ruthless efficiency. This earned approval from Master Jiao Ao but complaints from the girls. She merely shrugged at their objections.

"Perhaps you could recuse yourself from knife training today, Lady Lan Chi," the teacher suggested.

Lan shrugged. "Fine. May I be allowed to use the bows and arrows, Master Jiao Ao?"

He was leery. "Are you trained in their usage?"

"I am familiar, Master."

"By all means. Feel free."

A thrill went through her. She had not touched a bow and arrow for over a year and a half, and this opportunity was too good to pass up.

She went to the other end of the bending hall, where the archery equipment was kept. Her class had not begun their archery unit yet, so the equipment was in relatively good condition.

Lan chose a bow and gathered up a quiver full of arrows. She stood against one wall and sighted the target.

As she set up her first shot, a feeling of _belonging_ came over her. This was her – this was her _place_. She felt most at home with a bow in her hands, most at home peering down the shaft of the arrow, sighting her target – her _prey_ – and letting the thin piece of wood slide out, in a perfect, tiny arc, and find its home.

She felt a feeling of release that she had not felt in a long, long time. She breathed in through her nose and let it out slowly through her mouth. It was the most glorious feeling in the world. This _power_ that she wielded – the power of life and death.

Without even looking at the quiver, she pulled out another arrow and shot it. It lodged next to the first, crowding the bullseye. She shot arrow after arrow, each finding its spot, until she had filled the bullseye with a dozen arrows, all gathering in the center. _By the spirits, that felt good_!

She walked over to the target and pulled each arrow out and methodically replaced them in the quiver. The corner of her eye caught a fluttering of paper, and she slowly pulled an arrow back out, and slid it onto her bow. She pulled back the string, lifted her head, and let the arrow fly.

It shot silently through the air, sliced through Ozai's paper eye, and clattered off the stone wall behind.

She heard footsteps behind her and had to subdue the training that prompted her to turn and fire an arrow into whomever approached her, as the Yu Yan had taught her.

It was Master Jiao Ao. "Lady Lan Chi. You are indeed _familiar_ with the use of the bow."

"Yes, Master." She looked at him. "I am."

"I see evidence of the Yu Yan Archers in your technique."

"I trained with them for several years."

"I can tell." He looked off in the distance. "The Yu Yan Archers are the most formidable fighting force in the world."

She began to speak, but he held up his hand. "Yes, I know that the Fire Lord would say that firebenders are superior, but you and I know better, don't we?" He looked at her shrewdly. "The Yu Yan are the only soldiers in the world who can launch _death_ from hundreds of yards away. Who can dispatch a man without seeing anything more than a shadow. Who can _kill_ and walk away without even seeing the blood."

Throughout his speech, she had not dared to take her eyes from his face.

"Just remember, Lady Lan Chi, that they are _assassins_ – cold blooded killers, who must put aside all human emotion in order to accomplish their aims." He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You are not one of them."

* * *

After classes were complete for the day, the headmistress's secretary came to escort her to her room. They opted not to lock her in, since her roommates would be coming and going, but warned her that if she was seen at the mixer, consequences would be _dire_.

She attempted to read while her roommates readied themselves, while they giggled and gossiped and sprayed each other with perfume. She pointedly coughed and waved her hand in front of her face, but earned only dark faces from the other girls.

Soon they were gone, Ling with a brief wave and a squeeze of the hand. Lan lifted a limp wrist in return, and, when the door closed behind them, she gave an aggrieved yowl and fell back against her pillow.

Zuko would be there soon, and she would not even get a chance to _see_ him. Why was her life so unfair?

Chords from _Fire Nation, We Beseech Thee_ drifted through her window, and she knew that the mixer had begun. Was Zuko there, even now? Was he only one floor down – only a few hundred feet away? Was he already laughing, holding Mai's hand? Was he kissing her _hello_, even now?

She pressed her palms against her eyes. She could not take an entire night of _this –_ torture to which she was subjecting herself.

She dropped her hands as a thought came to her. She couldn't _go_ to the mixer, but the headmistress never said anything about _watching_ it. She jumped up and raced to the window. There was flat roof outside. She could drop down from it with no problem. How about getting back up to her chamber? There was a tree at the far end of the building.

Perfect.

She looked back into her room. She should probably make some effort to fool anyone who might look in. She grabbed all the clean uniforms from the closet and stuffed them into her bed, covering the whole thing with a blanket. It would not pass close muster, but anyone just _glancing _in might be tricked.

She put one leg over the window ledge and slid out onto the roof.

It was a beautiful night for a mixer, she admitted. A beautiful night with a full moon...

She grinned. _Oh, this is going to be fun_.

She dangled from the roof's edge for a moment, then dropped to the ground as quietly as possible. She pressed herself against the building and sidled along it.

The bending hall was on the opposite side of the school, and she made her way there with alacrity. For not the first time, she silently thanked Piandao for her training. He had taught her to move as stealthily as a zebracat, and to blend in. She peered through one of the bending hall's windows.

Inside was a crush of people, the girls in their red uniforms, and the boys in their _scarlet_ uniforms.

"Doesn't this country know that there are other colors besides _red_?" She whispered to herself. It was going to make spotting Zuko all the harder.

She caught sight of Ling standing in a corner with a tall, gangly Fire Nation boy. _Fiancé, no doubt_. She grimaced. He was definitely not the finest looking boy the Fire Nation could produce. _Maybe he has a good personality_. She continued to scan the room.

The finest looking boy the Fire Nation could produce, in fact, was standing next to the punch bowl with Mai, Azula, Ty Lee, and a large crowd of people, most of them jostling for his attention, or for the attention of his sister.

Lan's throat closed painfully when she saw him. It was Zuko – it was definitely Zuko.

He had grown at least six inches, if not more, and his shoulders were broader. He was in a red dress uniform much more formal than those of the other boys, and Lan took back everything she had said earlier about the color. He looked _magnificent_. His face had lengthened, revealing more of the man that he would someday become rather than reflecting the boy that he had once been. He smiled, then laughed, and Lan Chi felt as if she had been punched. _Spirits_! He was beautiful.

He was beautiful, and he was with someone else. He lifted a hand to push Mai's hair off her shoulder, and left it there.

The color red made another appearance; this time, it was in Lan Chi's vision. She gritted her teeth and curled her fingers over the window ledge painfully, imagining that the stone beneath her hands was Mai's neck.

She watched them for the next half hour, grimacing every time he leaned in to whisper something into Mai's ear and scowling when he put his arm around her waist. She recognized that spying was dishonorable, but she did not care. She did not care about anything but keeping an eye on Zuko. Watching every move he made.

When he made a move with Mai towards one of the doors that led to an outdoor courtyard, she crouched below the level of the windows and was outside the door before he even opened it, hidden in a bush.

"Should we be out here?" He asked his date.

"Of course. Why not?" Mai responded.

Lan closed her eyes. His voice _had_ changed – it was deeper, and a little bit scratchy. She imagined what it would be like to hear her name in that voice, or to hear _I love you_. She wagered that she would never hear the latter.

Mai had put her arm through his, and they walked towards a large round fountain whose ledge provided a bench. Lan stole closer to them.

"Full moon." Mai pointed at the sky.

"Waterbending is strongest tonight." Zuko commented.

Lan gave a devilish half smile. _Oh, you know that, do you_? _So do I_.

They walked around the fountain until their backs were to the building, and to Lan. She raced to a shrub that bordered the fountain walkway.

"I'm glad you were able to come, Zuko. I don't think I could have tolerated this _mixer_ otherwise."

He chuckled. "It seems like fun."

She shook her head. "It's not."

Lan snorted quietly. She had been _dying _to go to the mixer, and had not been allowed. What ingratitude! Mai didn't know how lucky she was!

"Let's sit down," Zuko took her hand.

A flick of Lan's wrist, and a small snake of water from the fountain settled on the stone seat just before Mai sat.

"It's wet!" She jumped up, dropping Zuko's hand.

"What? It looked dry!" Lan sniggered into her hand.

"You could have looked better!" She tried to brush the water off the back of her robe, but it had already absorbed into the material.

"Sorry." He looked around. "Let's go sit over there."

A stream of water landed right in front of Mai's foot and turned to ice. She stepped on it, and her foot went skidding from beneath her. Lan turned the ice back to water just as Mai's knee landed in it.

She squealed and grabbed at Zuko. He was caught off guard and fell into her, knocking them both to the ground. Lan had been aiming them for the fountain, but, in retrospect, she decided it _was_ rather mean, so was grateful when they landed on the pavers instead.

"Ow! Zuko! You're on my elbow!"

"Sorry." Zuko said, and Lan had to stifle her laughter.

"And you're on my skirt! I can't get up."

He stood up and extended a hand to her, which she slapped away. "I can get up on my own." She scrambled up and began brushing her skirts free of debris. He tried to help, and, surprisingly, she allowed him.

In the light of the moon, Lan saw their eyes meet.

"Is – is your elbow okay?" He asked softly.

Mai nodded mutely, and, impulsively, Zuko leaned in until their lips met.

Lan Chi watched this all in horror, her hands covering her mouth to strangle any sound.

Zuko's arms tentatively encircled Mai's waist, and Lan dropped her hands. She had to do something. Anything.

With steely determination and a willful abandon of common sense, Lan encircled the lovers' legs with a wide band of water and released it. The water hit the hard ground and exploded, splashing both Mai and Zuko from the knees down.

They jumped apart with a screech, and Mai shoved Zuko away. She looked at him for a long moment, then ran off, back to the bending hall.

"Stupid fountain." Zuko glared at the burping water as it cascaded out of its pipe, mocking him.

Lan was not there to hear Zuko's explanation for the errant wave. She was already halfway back to her room.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Although this chapter does not cover much time chronologically, it shows a lot about Lan, and also heralds the return (yay!) of Prince Zuko.

It also made clear to Lan that, while she is away, Zuko has not been lonely. I think that she had been suffering under the misapprehension that, just because she was alone, Zuko was, too. And, of course, we know that Zuko isn't alone until season 2, episode 7! Ha!

Anyway, I also allowed Lan a small power trip or three; first with the archery, secondly, in the bathroom when all of the water exploded in response to her anger, and thirdly, of course, when she was messing with Zuko and Mai.

None of her shows of force, however, did her any good. The last was the most spectacular failure, of course, because it propelled Zuko directly into Mai's arms.

This chapter also showed that Lan has a darker side, which Jiao Ao recognized when she shot Ozai's picture through the eye. It may take a lot for Lan to keep these darker impulses in check, especially since she feels the rush of power that comes with wielding a deadly weapon.

Also, for those watching _The Legend of Korra_, please note Lan's use of the word "gorgeous" when describing Ozai. That is, of course, the word that Bolin used and emphasized to describe himself in episode 5.


	11. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just sell cabbages in Ba Sing Se – and make sure that a cabbage slug "finds" its way into my competitors' carts...**

* * *

Ha! I fooled you! I told you that I would not post another chapter until after Memorial Day, but I figured, eh, what the heck? It's done, after all, so who am I to withhold?

Thanks again for the kind reviews – you know who you are. For those who are reading but not reviewing, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, TOO! ; )

* * *

Summers had always been difficult for Lan Chi at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. The campus was deserted; all but one or two girls went home for the summer. The ones who stayed were those who had come from the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom, and who faced journeys of more than one month each way to get home.

And one girl who had nowhere else to go.

Although there was always only a smattering of girls left at the school, Lan, thanks to the headmistress, always slept in her own room, alone. She did not know whether to be angry or grateful – on one hand, she was kept isolated, but, at least she privacy. Privacy to finally, among other things, practice waterbending. She needed practice desperately. Her only chance to waterbend during the school year took place in the bath, when she was not likely to be disturbed. As a result of that, her waterbending skills, although not degenerated, had, for the most part, not improved, either. Still, despite the new privacy, she restricted waterbending to the nighttime hours, when she could count on full secrecy.

She spent most of the daytime hours in the library, although, after dinner, she was allowed to practice archery in the bending hall. The headmistress, although wary of allowing her to practice such a _martial_ art, apparently decided it was the lesser of two evils, since, she reasoned, the girl's only other alternative was getting into mischief.

The summer before Lan Chi turned thirteen was, unfortunately, one of the the hottest summers on record in the Fire Nation. She awoke each morning sticking to her bed, and it only got worse from there. As a child of the Northern Water Tribe, she detested hot weather. Living in the equatorial Fire Nation, as she did, she found much of the weather detestable. By dinner each night, all the unlucky girls, Fire Nation blood or not, were sweaty and snippy, and in foul tempers.

On a particularly sultry night about a month after the solstice, Lan was in a particularly bad mood. She took her meal from the cook, who appeared even more miserable that her diners, carried it to the table where the other girls sat, and dropped it with a clatter, causing the other girls to jump. One of them opened her mouth to say something, but a dark look from Lan silenced her before she made a sound.

Lan settled down on a cushion, and picked up her chopsticks. She put some noodles in her mouth – and promptly spit them back out.

"Ugh! These are _horrible_! They taste like parchment!" She tossed her chopsticks on the table. "I loathe this place! I loathe the food! I loathe the boredom! I loathe the heat! I loathe –"

"The company?" One of the girls whispered, which caused the other girls to snort into their bowls.

Lan's eyes narrowed. "Everything."

Another girl put down her chopsticks. "So run away. Leave. Be done with it."

"Run away?"

"You know – leave a place without permission?"

"I know what _run away _means."

The other girl shrugged. "Then do it. It's not as if you'll be the first."

The thought intrigued Lan. Other girls had hated it here enough to run away? She had not even considered the possibility.

The girl, whose name Lan thought was Duozui, continued. "My sister ran away with her boyfriend when she was here – twice. It was kind of funny, since my parents sent her here so she wouldn't see her boyfriend." Duozui shrugged again.

An idea had come into Lan's head. "Really?"

"Of course, she was caught both times, but she was gone almost a week the second time."

"Huh." Lan's mind began working furiously, and she stood up. "I have a headache. I'll see you tomorrow."

None of the other girls cared enough to watch her walk off.

* * *

It took only two days for Lan Chi to perfect an escape plan, although _perfect_, she would have said, was not the best word to use to describe her scheme. It was rough, and full of holes, and just as liable to fail as to succeed. But the combination of the heat and her boredom and frustration caused her to throw common sense away, as she was starting to do more frequently.

Escape would not be a problem. Not for a student of Piandao and the Yu Yan Archers. She would go out the window of her chamber, much as she had the night of the mixer, and then, she would literally go over the wall. The entire school was ringed by ancient hedges grown thick and sturdy over several hundred years. She would simply scale the wall. Once over the wall, she would be in the vast capital city. She could go anywhere she wanted.

The only problem was – she didn't know where to go. Her choices were severely limited, she had to admit. She had no friends. She had no money. She had no means of transportation. All she had was the _ability_ – and the desire – to run away. At this point, though, she did not even really care where she went. She just wanted to prove that she could escape, and she wanted the thrill that came with it – with breaking the rules.

The answer came to her suddenly. She would go to the palace. She would go see Hua and Jianyu. She would see them, and they would fuss over her as they had when she was younger. They might even have news of Iroh! The fact that Zuko might very well be there did not enter her mind more than a dozen times. The fact that Ozai and Azula would most probably be there as well she refused to think on.

So, it was settled, in her mind. She was going home.

* * *

It was all far simpler than she had expected. Not long after midnight on the night she had chosen, she made a dummy for the bed, a task at which, she reflected, she was becoming an expert. She knew, however, that it would only buy her eight to ten hours' head start, if that. She put on her sparring clothes but left off the hated robe that advertised her as a Royal Fire Academy of Girls student, and, after rummaging in her roommates' drawers, selected a scarf to conceal her all-too-identifiable hair.

Hideous. She looked hideous. Ah, well, she should blend into her surroundings more easily.

She went out the window and onto the ground with little difficulty. She gained the safety of the hedges easily, as well, and, in minutes, she was on the other side of the wall. She stood on the deserted street in front of the school, the spire of the palace visible from where she stood, and started off in that direction.

She passed long rows of houses and the open market, as well as a city park. She had already decided that she could not attempt to enter the palace under cover of darkness, even though it was tempting. Perimeter security would be tight, she knew, too tight to allow her the opportunity to climb the wall. Therefore, she had planned to go in the front door, with the throngs of Fire Nation citizens there as tourists. She hoped that Ozai had not discontinued the program that Iroh had convinced his father to establish twenty years before – a program that allowed ordinary Fire Nation subjects the chance to look upon the splendor of their ruler's home. That was key to her plan. She had not even considered what she would do otherwise.

She made her way across the city, always keeping to the shadows. She was not afraid, though – not at all – just cautious. She had stolen a dagger from the bending hall, and was confident that she could defend herself, but preferred to avoid all people, if possible.

She reached the palace a little before dawn, which, at this time of year, was very early, and found, nearby, a large tree with heavy leaves. She hoisted herself up into the branches, and found a sturdy one to rest on. She leaned back against the trunk, and with a quick prayer to the spirits that she didn't fall, she drifted into a light sleep.

* * *

She awoke several hours later and pushed aside the foliage to peer at the sun. It seemed to be sometime mid-morning. Time to go. She secured the dagger in the top of her boot and experimentally wiggled her ankle. Not obvious. Good. She slid off the branch and made her way to the ground. Fortunately, there was no one near enough to note a girl come out of a tree – that surely would have excited comment.

She adjusted her clothes and kerchief, and nonchalantly sauntered towards the entrance of the palace. Crowds of people were gathered there – bureaucrats obvious by the piles of paper clutched in their arms, guards and other military keeping the peace, families with small children, and even what appeared to be groups of children on school trips.

One of the school groups was comprised of both boys and girls who seemed to be only slightly younger than Lan, so she stood near them, and surreptitiously sidled into the pack. Their teacher was a harried woman of middle years who seemed, to Lan, to spend a lot of her time screeching random names, and who, thankfully, was not alert enough to notice that her group had grown by one. Several of the other students noticed Lan as they lined up to enter the palace, but a menacing look from Lan stilled their tongues.

Their palace tour guide was a thin, fluttery young man who liked to talk _at_ his charges rather than _to_ them, so he launched into a lecture on rules and regulations as he led them within.

"No talking no eating no drinking no quills no _ink_," this he emphasized, "no candy no large bags no _touching anything_ no stopping no speaking to the guards no loud voices no stomping your feet," finally he turned to them, "and no potty breaks." His grin was more of a baring of the teeth. "Now, let's have fun, shall we? We're walking. We're walking." He was off, with 27 sets of feet shuffling after him.

The twenty-eighth set of feet saw her chance, and joined a smaller group that consisted of several families. They were obviously on a more-in-depth tour, because their guide was actually a royal guard. He was stopped in front of a painting of Zu Jia, twelfth Fire Lord, whom Lan Chi recognized from a history book.

"Zu Jia, as many of you may know from history, was the boy Fire Lord. He ascended at ten years of age," the guard was saying.

_Twelve_, Lan corrected him silently.

"His uncle, Cai Zhu, was made regent, and, upon Cai Zhu's death when Zu Jia was fifteen, the remaining uncles Guan Zhu and Huo Zhu attempted to usurp the throne. However, that rebellion was quashed when Zu Jia's mother, Su Zhu, a powerful firebender in her own right, rallied the noble families to her son's side and routed the rebels at the Battle of Xiapu."

Lan Chi had to bite her tongue. It was actually at the Battle of Xia Bei that Su Zhu defeated her former brothers-in-law, but Lan did not think it was worth correcting.

She smiled at a little boy was looking at her curiously, and he tugged on his father's hand to be picked up. Lan stuck her tongue out at him.

"Let's move on, now. We'll be entering a portion of the palace that we have included in the tour for honored guests only." He bowed to the man now holding the little boy, who bowed back.

They passed through a large set of ornate doors guarded by two masked firebender soldiers, and Lan averted her eyes from them. It would not do to attract attention by staring at them, and it definitely would not do if she was recognized!

They were now in the portion of the palace that included the private apartments of the royal family. She smiled.

"We will start in the jade sitting room. It was the site of the signing of the treaty that ended the Yian Ding War."

Despite the fact that the historical period that the guard alluded to was among her favorites, she resisted the temptation to listen to the entire tale. Over the course of several minutes, as the tourists _oohed_ and _aahed_ over the lacquered table that still showed the ink marks of the signing, she edged closer and closer to a second door, which she recognized as leading to a series of corridors that would take her to Iroh's quarters.

As the guard began to narrate the events that led up to the cessation of hostilities, Lan opened the door quietly and slipped out.

Fortunately, there was no one in the hall.

Success! _The spirits are smiling on me today!_

She walked quickly down the hall. She was well acquainted with this portion of the palace. However, she had not been here since Ozai had become Fire Lord, and she was apprehensive. Should she meet any guards, or worse, Ozai or Azula, she knew that being returned to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls was the _best_ outcome. The worst outcome – she could not imagine.

Another door. She turned the knob uneasily. An entire platoon of guards could be on the other side.

A long, empty hallway greeted her. She breathed a sigh of relief and passed through.

_One more_. _Just one more_.

At what she thought was the end of her journey through the palace proper, she became careless. In a bid to gain the courtyard exit, she hurried past a doorway that she had not noticed. The door slid open silently, as all doors in the great palace did, and someone stepped out.

Someone very familiar with the Water Tribe child, even disguised.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, how do you like the cliffhanger? This chapter was originally twice as long, so I decided to split it into two. Diabolical, I know, but it gives me a cushion to keep ahead of you voracious readers! So, short chapter.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter – it is a departure for me, being mostly exposition and little dialogue, which, I admit, is my favorite part of writing. I hear the dialogue in my head sometimes – it makes taking phone calls a challenge, I acknowledge...

Note, please, my homage to Sokka's memorable speech to the Water Tribe kids (season 1, episode 2) at the end of the tour guide's lecture to the school kids.

I had lots of fun making up Fire Nation history – I based it, of course, on ancient Chinese history, although the names and situations have been changed to protect the innocent (actually, so no one would write to me and say _"Uh, you got that wrong. It was the Battle of (insert correct battle name here) that ended the War of (insert correct war name here)."_ ) One of the things that I wanted to illustrate is that Lan Chi is, through and through, a Fire Nation patriot. Although she is an outsider in many ways, she was raised in and is loyal to the Fire Nation. So there.

Her love of her country will, in the future (part 2) be put to the test, and the decisions she makes at that time will have far reaching effects...


	12. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just sew costumes for the Ember Island Players.**

* * *

Happy Memorial Day, US citizens! For the rest of the world, happy Monday!

I know that I originally said that I wouldn't post until after the weekend, but I had two chapters done, so I figured "what the heck!" Enjoy both the day and the chapter.

Thank you all so much for your kind reviews. I am REALLY grateful for your thoughtful words. To those who are fretting, fear not – I will indeed continue this story to its very end! I promise!

If you'll recall, the last time we saw our Lan Chi, she was about to be discovered sneaking through the palace by someone who knows her...

* * *

"Lan?" Zuko couldn't believe his eyes.

Her eyes opened wide.

He looked around quickly, and grabbed her hand. He pulled her after him, down the corridor a short way, through a door, and closed it behind them. They were plunged into darkness, until Zuko brought forth a small flame, which he kept cradled in his hand.

It was a closet, and they were very close. Lan's pulse quickened. He looked very handsome, wearing a soft brown sparring tunic and pants.

He had a huge smile on his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Promise not to tell?"

He nodded.

"You can't tell _anyone_."

"I won't. I promise."

"I ran away."

In his surprise, he allowed the fire to go out. He re-ignited it, and Lan blinked at its sudden brightness. "From the Academy?"

She nodded.

"Lan." He was puzzled. "When people run away, they usually don't go _home_."

She shrugged. "I wanted to come see Hua and Jianyu."

"Who?"

"Uncle's servants." At his blank look, she explained. "They always took care of me when he was gone."

"Oh."

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

"I told you I wouldn't. Can we sit down?"

"Yeah. I guess."

They settled on the floor, facing each other, knees almost touching, amongst the brooms and mops and cleaning supplies.

"Why are you wearing that?" He indicated the kerchief.

She had forgotten she was wearing it. She blushed, and pulled it from her head. "Oh, that. It's my disguise."

He snickered. "_Disguise_?"

She shook her head. "Not very good?"

"I recognized you." The flickering flames cast weird shadows on his face.

She shrugged. "Well, It seems that you are one of the only people here who knows me. I didn't recognize _anyone_ when I came in."

"Yeah. All of Grandfather's people have gone by now, for the most part."

A thought came to her. "Is Azula here?"

"What? No. She's at Mai's house today, I think."

_Mai_. "Oh, you didn't go?" She hoped her tone was casual.

He looked at her in surprise. "No. Why would I want to be with Azula and her friends?"

A hope sprang to life in her chest. "No reason."

He was puzzled. "Okay." He was quiet a moment. "No. It's not okay. Why do you think I would want to be with Azula and her friends?"

Her shrug was an attempt at nonchalance. "Because, you know, Mai's your girlfriend – and all." She finished feebly.

"Not anymore." He looked at his hand suddenly. "Do you mind if I let this flame go out for a couple of minutes? My hand is cramping."

_No, I surely do not mind_! "No, go ahead."

They were in darkness again.

"Thanks." She could almost see his silhouette trying to shake the spasm from his hand. "That feels better." However, if she thought that the last topic was dead, she was disappointed. "How do you know about me and Mai?"

She was very glad of the dark. "I don't know. Girls at school talking, I guess."

"Talking about me – and Mai?"

"Zuko, you're the crown prince of the Fire Nation. Of _course_ all the girls talk about you."

"Do you?" His question was quiet.

Her pulse quickened, and she remembered what she had told Ling, all those months ago. "I don't need to. I know you."

"Yes. You do." His tone was speculative.

There was a long silence. "Sooooo," she asked slowly, "why did you break up with Mai?"

She could almost hear his smile. "Why are you so interested?"

"So I can have things to talk about at school, silly."

He knew she was kidding, so he laughed. "In that case, I should make it a good story. Let me see. First of all, I found out that she is actually –"

"A boy?" It slipped out before Lan could catch it, and she gave a small squeal and covered her mouth.

"Lan!"

"I'm sorry, Zuko! I don't know why I said that."

"It was kind of nasty."

She groaned. "I know. I'm sorry. The headmistress says that I have a mean streak."

"It was kind of funny, too, I guess."

"I still shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry. Get back to your story."

"What story?"

"The story about why you broke up with Mai. Remember?"

"Oh, right. I don't know. I can't actually think of anything interesting right now. I guess I just broke up with her because – because, I don't know, because she's never happy, you know?"

Lan nodded, but, remembering they were in the dark, she made a sound of agreement.

"I mean, if it's a nice day, she'll say the sun is too _bright_. If it's raining, she'll say it's too _wet_."

Despite her giddiness at having her self-proclaimed rival's defects being pointed out, she still felt sorry for her. "Maybe – maybe she's just not a happy person. She can't help that."

Zuko seemed to consider this. "I guess not. Not everyone can be like Uncle."

At the mention of Iroh, Lan's spirits dropped. "No. I guess not."

"Have you heard from Uncle?"

She shook her head, even though she knew he couldn't see it. "No. Have you?"

"No."

There was silence, until Lan finally broke it.

"Zuko, can you put the light back on?"

He could hear misery in Lan Chi's voice. He complied.

She wanted to see his face when she asked her next question. "Zuko, do you think Uncle's – dead?"

Zuko had been dreading that question. Iroh had been missing for almost two years, and, if he knew anything at all about Uncle, it was that he was responsible. Disappearing without a word was not in his character.

"No. I'm sure he's fine."

Lan looked at him for a long moment, and Zuko hoped that she did not see his lie in his eyes.

She smiled. "You're right. He's the Dragon of the West, after all."

Zuko smiled, as well. "Yes."

A long silence stretched between them, until Zuko gave himself a mental shake. "So, do you want my help getting to Iroh's house?"

Alarm bells went off in her head. Yes, of course she _wanted_ his help, but she saw the danger inherent in it, as well. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?"

_Because your father would probably roast me alive where I stood if he caught us_! "I don't want to get you in trouble."

He waved a dismissive hand. "I won't get in trouble. I'm the prince, after all."

She was skeptical, and the skepticism showed in her face.

"Or perhaps you don't think I can get you there without getting caught."

She held up both hands in supplication. "I did _not_ say that."

"Good. Because I can." He waved the back of his fingers at her. "Put your disguise back on. Let's go."

She smiled suddenly. "All right. If you think you can..."

"I can."

He waited until she covered as much of her tell-tale hair as possible under the kerchief. "If people see us together, maybe they'll think I'm Azula."

He shook his head. "No one is going to mistake you for Azula." He let his flame go out, and grabbed her hand. His skin was warm from the flame, and a shiver of awareness passed through her. "Come on."

He opened the door and peered around. It was vacant. He pulled her from the safety of the closet and started at a trot down the hall.

Although she knew she should have been looking around her for danger, she had her eyes glued on Zuko. His queue had grown since she had last seen him, and he had, of course, continued to grow – broader, taller. Heartbreakingly handsome, damn him!

She snapped back to reality when they turned down an unfamiliar hall. "Where are we going?"

"Short cut."

They heard footsteps, and he put his arm up to bar her from moving forward. He walked them both backwards until they were in a deep doorway, and put a finger up to his lips. She nodded.

Two guards walked by, flanking Feng!

Lan drew in an alarmed breath, but Zuko looked at her and shook his head emphatically.

After Feng and the others had passed, Zuko and Lan went in the opposite direction.

"Was that your old tutor?" She whispered.

Zuko nodded. "He's Father's secretary now."

They came to a door at the end of a hallway, and Zuko dropped her hand to open it, slowly, with both hands.

The door opened onto a large courtyard, and Zuko peered both ways before entering.

Recognition registered in her mind. "Oh, this is the courtyard where I pushed Azula in the duck pond."

He turned and grinned at her. "Site of your greatest victory." He pointed briefly to the far wall. "Uncle's apartments are on the other side of the wall."

Her jaw dropped. "Really? I didn't know that these two courtyards were adjacent."

"Benefits of living here – I know all the secrets." He winked at her, and, for a moment, she was stunned. He looked so – _dreamy_. That was the only word she could think to use to describe him. Oh, yes, she would definitely be dreaming about this!

"If we run across the courtyard, it will be faster, but it will be _safer _if we go along the boundary, because of the hedges."

She had come to the same conclusion. "Let's take the safer."

He looked at her and nodded firmly. "Good idea."

She smiled. _We make a good team_.

They reached the closest hedge with no problem, and, crouching down, made their way around the border of the courtyard. She reflected that, in her life, she sneaked around quite a bit. It was quite a good thing, then, that Iroh had invested in all of her training. He had certainly gotten his money's worth.

"Up and over." Zuko indicated the bushes against the walls.

More climbing. With a quick look around, Lan started climbing.

Zuko, with his superior height and upper body strength, passed her easily, and, when he got to the top, reached down for her.

"I'm okay." She whispered. "I don't need – ouch! You're yanking my arm!"

He had grasped her upper arm and pulled her up. Unfortunately, he succeeded only in dragging her into the branches, and leaves and twigs exploded around her.

Alarmed by the sound, he tugged her up quickly, and she slammed into him, sending them both tumbling to the other side.

They lay there stunned for a few seconds before Lan collected herself. She grabbed his hand and dragged him back into the shelter of the wall.

"Are you hurt?"

He rubbed his head as he shook it. "I don't think so."

She surveyed her surroundings, and realized, in a rush, that this was the first time she had seen her home since that fateful night of Azulon's funeral, more than two years before.

Everything was as she remembered it. The benches, the small fountain, the cherry tree, now heavy with unripe fruit, with Lu Ten's swing still on it. She swiped away tears.

"Let's try the front door."

She nodded and they dashed across the courtyard to the doors, although there was no one to see them in this sad, abandoned home.

Lan tried the knob, but it was locked.

Zuko started to knock, but Lan grabbed his wrist. "Are you crazy? Don't knock!"

"How are you supposed to get in, then?"

"If we knock and someone I _don't_ know answers the door, we could end up in your father's office."

He looked surprised that he had not thought of that. "Oh. Good point." He looked around. "How are we going to get in?"

"_We _are not going to get in. _I _am going in by myself."

"Fine. How are _you_ going to get in?"

She smiled. "Simple. I'll go in my window." She pointed to a second floor window. A wisteria vine spread along the wall, and provided ample foot and handholds.

"Are you going to break in?"

"No. The latch is broken. It's been broken for years."

"Let's go."

She caught his sleeve. "_Let's_? I'm going by myself."

"I'm not letting you climb into a strange bedchamber by yourself."

"_A strange bedchamber_? It's _my_ bedchamber."

"That you haven't slept in for over two years. I'm coming."

He started off, and she stared after him, a small smile curving her face.

They climbed the vine, and, after a little jiggling of the latch, it lifted free.

"Ha! Told you." She lifted herself over the ledge and tumbled into the room, followed by Zuko.

It looked the same, except that all of the furniture was now covered in protective cloths.

Zuko was still seated where he had landed, his arms braced on his knees. "So this is your chamber?"

She blushed painfully. _Zuko _was in her chamber. "This is it."

"So now we need to find Gua –"

"Hua," Lan corrected. "But you have to go, Zuko. She can't find out that you helped me. She'll _kill_ us both."

"You're throwing me out?"

"I'm not _throwing_ you out."

"Good, because I think it might be easier for me to sneak back after dark."

"_After dark_? Have you lost your mind? You can't stay here that long!"

"Why not? No one knows we're here."

She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again. "I guess you're right."

He smiled and scrambled up. "Let's take the covers off."

They uncovered everything, and then looked at each other awkwardly, expectantly. Lan belatedly snatched the kerchief from her hair.

"Do – do you want to sit down?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I guess." He sat on her bed, and she sputtered.

"You – you can't sit _there_!"

He was confused. "Why?"

"It's my _bed_."

"So? You haven't slept in it for two years. Your _actual _bed is at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls."

She looked at him sullenly. "I guess you're right."

He slid to the far side and lay down facing her. He watched her for a long moment, disconcerting her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She demanded, finally.

"I've missed you."

That drained all of her ire.

"Have you missed me?" His voice was hopeful.

She nodded, unable to speak.

"Tell me about the Academy. Do you like it?"

She shrugged and looked away. "I guess. It's okay."

"Do you like your classes?"

She sank down on the edge of the bed. "Some of them. I really like my self defense and fighting class. My master, Jiao Ao, was a classmate of Piandao's."

"I miss Piandao."

She frowned. "What do you mean? Has something happened to him?"

"I thought you knew. He left not long after Grandfather died. He moved to one of the smaller islands, I think."

She looked thoughtful. "No, I didn't know."

Zuko shrugged. "It's okay. My new master isn't _that _bad."

"Oh. That's good – I guess."

"Do you ever see Azula?"

Lan's eyes widened. "Oh, yes. I see Azula."

His lips curved. "It sounds as if you would prefer not to."

Her brows lifted. "You know me well."

He twined his fingers with hers. "Maybe I do."

Her heart started drumming painfully, and she was certain that he could feel it, or, at the very least, hear it. A silence fell, and, in it, they stared at each other.

Then, despite her best attempts at self-preservation, she stretched out on the bed, facing him, much like that night so long ago.

"How do we always end up lying together in bed?" She asked, unaware how that sounded. She blushed then, when she replayed it in her head. "That did not come out right."

"I knew what you meant." He was quiet. "I can't believe I haven't seen you since Grandfather's funeral. It seems so long ago."

"I know. We're _thirteen_."

"Ancient." He agreed, sincerely. "I wrote you a letter – after that night."

Her eyes widened. "You did? I didn't get it."

His expression darkened. "It was returned. You weren't allowed mail."

"What did it say?"

He shrugged. "Nothing important. Just _thank you_. You know."

"Oh. Well, you're welcome."

He chuckled at that, but became serious again. "Life is so _odd_ now, isn't it? I mean, you're at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, and all my tutors have changed, and – everything."

"Yeah."

"Why – why did you go to the Academy so suddenly? I've always wondered."

A cold rod of fear slithered down her spine. She couldn't tell him; she could _never_ tell him. The things that his father had said – they was too embarrassing to repeat. "I – I just decided that it might be a good place – to go."

He did not seem convinced. "But you had always said –"

She cut him off. "I know. But I decided that I – was wrong."

"Oh." He compressed his lips for a moment, then spoke. "I wanted to go see you, but Azula said that she didn't think you had time – to see me, I mean."

He had wanted to see her! It thrilled her heart, and she smiled. "You know that Azula always lies."

He smiled at that. "Yes."

He pulled on her hand gently, and she leaned forward. He slid forward to meet her, and touched his lips to hers. Fireworks shot off in her body, her stomach twisted, and she felt slightly nauseated. Was this love? If it was, it felt a lot like food poisoning.

Zuko put his hand up to cup her cheek, and the kiss continued. Lan wanted nothing more than to lean farther into him and feel his warm arms go around her, but she lay still.

He pulled away finally, and smiled at her. "You taste good."

"So do you. I didn't know that boys tasted good."

He chuckled. "Is this your first kiss?" He asked, surprised.

"No!" She declared hotly. Then, looking at him, she sighed. "Yes."

"Really?"

"I don't get many chances at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls."

"I guess not." He pulled her into him. His lips found hers again, and then, as she had wished earlier, he slid his arms around her. "I'm glad."

"About what?"

"That it's your first kiss." He kissed her again.

"Now – now, it's um, it's, now – it's my third kiss."

"Fourth," he corrected, and kissed her again.

"Zuko –" she began slowly, intending to say _I love you_, but he sighed, misinterpreting.

"Yes, I know. It's getting dark."

Dazed, she glanced around. He was right; the sun was almost gone. They had lain there for longer than she had realized. She sat up and tried to smooth her hair down. It would not do for Hua to catch her looking like a hoyden.

Zuko sat up again and watched her. He frowned and touched the end of her braid, which reached a little past her shoulders. "You've cut your hair."

"Azula cut it." She said it before she could stop herself. Her eyes grew wide.

"_Azula_ cut it? Did you ask her to?"

She put a light hand on his arm. "Zuko, it's okay. Really. It's been easier to take care of it."

"Did she hold you down, or something?"

She cast her eyes down. "Something like that."

His face turned red. "I am going to – "

"Zuko, please don't." She interrupted, pleading. "Whatever you are going to do, _don't do it_. She can _never _find out that you saw me. If she finds out, she is going to tell the headmistress and worse, _your father_, and I can't even imagine how much trouble I am going to be in. You can't, can't, can't, can't, can't tell _anyone _that I was here. You promised, remember?"

Zuko was silent for a long moment, then he took a deep breath and exhaled it. "Yes. But I'm sorry that she did that."

Lan held up her hands. "Don't apologize for her. She isn't sorry, so why should you be?"

"Because I am."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"I better go."

She nodded, and he stood. She followed suit.

They walked over to the window together. He started to climb out.

"If there's a mixer this year, do you promise to come?" He asked as he hooked a leg over the ledge.

She nodded as he grabbed onto the wisteria.

"So _you_ promise?" He asked again.

"Yes. I promise." It was an empty promise; she knew that.

He smiled, and, before she could react, he kissed her.

"Number five." He grinned and lowered himself down the vine.

She watched him until he disappeared over the wall with a brief wave. She lifted her hand in return, and left it up until long after he left.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Finally, Lan and Zuko get some action! Admittedly pretty G-rated stuff, but action nonetheless. Also, keep in mind that they are just twelve. Wait a second – Aang was making out with Katara at twelve. Hmm – maybe I'm cheating Lan and Zuko out of some fun. Oh, well, there's always next time!

I hope I didn't offend anyone with my Mai humor – I just couldn't resist.

By the way, if you think Lan is going to come out of this little escapade without repercussions, think again! There will be repercussions from the highest level...


	13. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just brew tea for Aunt Wu.**

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes:** Thanks for all the great reviews. I appreciate you all, reviewers and readers alike! BTW, I have decided to change the pairing on the story to be displayed on search to "Zuko & OC" since "Zuko & Iroh" is not technically true, especially at this point in the story.

I also have forgotten to point out that, while many authors use "Fire Lady" as the title for the Fire Lord's wife, I have found that "queen," for me, seems less awkward. Nothing against that title (which may actually be canonically correct), but I prefer queen.

* * *

After Zuko had gone, she spent many long minutes reliving their time together; every word, every touch, every kiss...

A shiver of happiness went through her, and she smiled. She was happy. It was a strange feeling, and one she had not felt, unreservedly, for a long time. In fact, the last she remembered being happy was when Lu Ten was alive and home. That was a long time ago.

And, now, it was back. She was happy. Zuko _liked_ her, maybe even _loved _her.

_Do not get carried away, Lan_, she commanded herself. He had liked Mai, too, and look what happened.

_But I'm not like Mai_. _Am I_? She ran through possible similarities in her mind. Neither she nor Mai were exactly sunny people. _But at least I have reason to be_. _What is her reason_? _She has **no** reason. She has a mother and father who love her and who are **alive. **She's doing better than me_.

_Do not judge a man until you walk in his shoes_, Iroh's voice said in her head.

She hated it when her voice of reason was right.

Well, fine. She would not judge Mai. Besides, she didn't need to. Zuko had chosen _her_, Lan Chi. The Water Tribe mongrel.

_So there_!

* * *

Although Lan Chi could have spent hours dreaming about Zuko, about his hair and his smile and his hands and his lips and his eyes – oh, those eyes, she knew she had to find Hua and Jianyu.

A thought that had not occurred to her before popped up in her head. What if they weren't here? What if, in the absence of an employer, they had left? What if Ozai had decided to disband Iroh's household completely?

_Why didn't I think of that earlier_?

_Does it matter_? A kinder voice of reason asked. _By coming to look for them, you found Zuko_.

Well, that was true, but that did not mean that she had relinquished her original plan, which was to find her uncle's servants.

She went to the door, and opened it slowly. It, unfortunately, was the exception to the rule that no door in the palace squeaked. It opened on hinges rusty from lack of use, and, gritting her teeth, Lan poked her head through.

There was no one.

She came out cautiously, and closed the door behind her. The hall was still and silent, and she listened for sounds in the rest of the house. Nothing.

Her heart sank. Perhaps there was no one here. _Or_, her optimistic self pointed out, perhaps t_hey are eating dinner_.

She cautiously made her way downstairs. Standing at the landing at the bottom of the stairs, she could see the house spread out around her, and a tightness came to her throat. Visions of happier times came to her mind. Aunt Su Hsing, Lu Ten, now lost to her forever, eyes closed permanently in death. Uncle Iroh, whose fate she still did not know.

She wiped tears away and walked into the living area. The furniture here was covered, like in her room, but she could see their shapes. The low table where they always had tea. The sofa she used to sit on to stare out the windows. The small altar where Aunt Su Hsing's, and now Lu Ten's, portraits sat. She went over and touched them both reverently. The portrait of Lu Ten had been placed there since her departure; Hua must have set it there.

She took a deep breath. Why wasn't life _easy_?

She walked to Uncle Iroh's study, where he had spent many hours occupied with Fire Nation business, where she and Lu Ten had studied history and math and literature. Still as a tomb. Everything was as still as a tomb.

She backed out and closed the door softly.

"My lady?"

Lan swung around. Hua stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a dishtowel clutched in her hands, her eyes large with disbelief.

"Hua! I'm so glad that you are here!" She rushed into the older woman's embrace.

Hua hugged her for a long time, then finally held her out at arm's length. "Look at you, my lady! Oh, look at you! You're not a child anymore."

"I'm so glad to see you, Hua. Is Jianyu here?"

"What? Oh, yes, Jianyu!" She turned her head to the kitchen to call the butler's name. "Come see! Come see who is here!"

Lan heard the sound of running, and Jianyu appeared in the doorway. "Lady Lan Chi!" His voice was an astonished whisper.

"Oh, Jianyu!" She squeezed him around the middle. "I am so happy to see you." She encompassed Hua with a glance. "Both of you!"

Jianyu exclaimed over her growth as well. "You're nearly as tall as Hua, now."

Hua waved a hand. "Never mind that now! We are so pleased to see you, but what are you doing here?"

Lan blushed. "I ran away."

Hua threw her hands up. "Ran away! From the Academy? Have mercy!" She grabbed Jianyu's hand. "What are we to do?"

Jianyu gave Hua a shake. "Calm down, Hua!"

Hua looked at him in a daze, then nodded. "Yes. I'll be calm." She turned to Lan. "Come, my lady. Let's have some tea."

She led Lan Chi into the kitchen, where the remnants of a meager dinner for two sat. Lan sank down on an empty cushion while Hua retrieved a cup for her and Jianyu cleared the plates.

"Are there only you two left?"

Jianyu nodded. "After you left, my lady, the Fire Lord appropriated your uncle's accounts and cut the household budget by half."

"More like three-quarters," Hua sniffed.

Jianyu shrugged. "We could not keep everyone on staff. And, then, little by little, the rest left. No one wants to work in a house with no family, even if it is a royal one." He poured tea for Lan.

"But enough about us, my lady," Hua settled across from Lan. "Tell us why you ran away."

Lan didn't know where to start her tale. Or _if_ to start her tale. Looking at their concerned faces, she knew that she could tell them nothing. They would feel obligated to try to help her, and there was simply nothing that they could do. No amount of complaining would bring her home; there was only one person in the world with the power to bring that about, and no one was even sure if that person was still in the world.

Lan smiled slightly. "I just wanted to see you both."

Hua grasped her hand firmly. "We are so thankful that you have come. We really are. But _how_ did you get here?"

She shrugged and averted her eyes. "I climbed over the wall at the Academy and made my way here."

"But how did you get _here_, to Prince Iroh's quarters?"

"It wasn't hard." She didn't want to lie to them, but she definitely did not want to mention Zuko.

Jianyu looked at her shrewdly. "You had help."

Her lips thinned.

Hua looked at her with concern. "Did you, my lady?" She thought on it for a long moment. "Oh, no. Oh, no. Tell me you did not get _him_ to help you!"

Lan sighed. "Hua, all will be well. He's promised not to say anything. And no one knows that I am here."

Hua looked at her with disappointment. "How many times are you going to allow your association with," here she pitched her voice low, "_Prince Zuko_ to bring you to ruin?"

"Hua, I am not exactly _ruined_."

"Well, I would say that you are worse off than you were three years ago."

Lan opened her mouth to retort, but Jianyu cut them both off. "Stop quarreling! None of it will get Lady Lan Chi back to the Academy!" He turned to Lan. "You are intending to go back, aren't you, my lady? You're not planning to run off with _him_, are you?"

Run off with Zuko? What a wonderful thought!

She shook her head. "No. I am certain that Prince Zuko has little desire to run away with me." Her eyes widened. "Besides, where would we go?"

"Well, thank the spirits for small mercies." Hua drained her tea cup. "And for someone with common sense."

Lan took a deep breath. "Look, I _am_ sorry if I have caused worry. Really, I am. I just wanted to see you. I wanted to come home. I've missed it all so –," her voice caught, "so much."

"Oh, my lady." Hua got up and came around to hug her. "You needn't cry. We're just old worrywarts. We'll think of a way to get you back to your school –"

"It's all right, Hua. I can get there by myself."

Jianyu shook his head. "Absolutely not. I will not be able to rest until you are back there safely."

"But –"

"No buts. We'll get you back safely. And this time, young lady," he pointed an accusatory finger at her, "you will stay."

Lan was taken aback. Easy-going Jianyu had never spoken to her in that manner.

She nodded slowly. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

It was decided that Jianyu would accompany Lan Chi back to the Academy early the next morning, before the sun had risen. In order to escape detection, Lan would wear a robe and a conical hat left by one of the houseboys, and she and Jianyu would simply stroll out the servants' entrance.

The three of them spent the rest of the evening reminiscing about happy times, and speculating about Iroh's whereabouts. They had not heard from him, but all were hopeful that he was still alive.

As Lan Chi had hoped, Hua was like a mother hen, making Lan's favorite dinner and tucking her in at bed time. Lan felt cherished for the first time in she could not remember how long.

The next morning came much too soon for Lan Chi. Her leave of Hua was wrenching; she wanted nothing more than to stay at Iroh's house, with well-known and well-loved faces, but knew that the ramifications for the housekeeper and butler would be severe had she refused to return to school.

She and Jianyu were able to leave the palace easily, waved through the servants' entrance by guards who recognized Jianyu's familiar form.

They found an available carriage for hire not far from the palace, which bore them quickly to the Academy. They alighted about a block away, and walked the remainder of the distance.

Jianyu looked at Lan Chi with skepticism. "Are you truly climbing the wall, my lady?"

Lan smiled. "Do you think that I cannot do it?"

"Oh, no, my lady. I am certain that you can. I just would worry about you."

"You needn't worry about me. I will be fine."

"Mind that you are. Prince Iroh will want you well when he returns."

Lan gave the old man a tight hug. "Thank you, Jianyu – for everything."

He embraced her. "I have done little enough for you, my lady, and for that I apologize. I'm just your uncle's old butler, after all, with neither influence nor money. But," he set her away to look at her, "I swear to you, should you ever _truly_ need me, send word, by whatever manner you can, and I will come for you. I promise."

"Thank you, Jianyu. I shall." She smiled. "I can actually use your help right now. Could you please give me a boost over the wall?"

* * *

Over the wall, back across the grounds, up the tree, across the roof, and into her bedroom, just as the sun was coming up.

Her chamber was exactly the same as she had left it, with the dummy still in the bed. Could she actually have done it? Made an escape and gotten away with it?

She grinned as she peeled off the sparring clothes and donned pajamas. She was pleased with herself. Pleased with her successful and unnoticed escape, pleased with her penetration of the palace security, pleased with her visit with Hua and Jianyu, and _definitely_ pleased with her encounter with Zuko.

Oh, yes, she was _particularly _pleased with her encounter with Zuko. Memories of his kisses floated around her head as she replaced the dummy in the bed with herself. Fantasies of him lying with her there in her bed, as they had in her chamber at home, filled her mind as she drifted off into slumber.

* * *

She did not know how much later she was shaken awake by a rough hand.

Rubbing her eyes, she turned over to find the headmistress glaring at her. "You _wicked_, _wicked_, _wicked _girl!" She gave her another rough shake. "Where have you been?"

Lan faced a tactical decision: brazen it out and deny everything, or admit that she had run away?

Brazen.

"Asleep, ma'am." She convincingly yawned.

A slap from the headmistress woke her up. "Liar! You _were _not here last night – or yesterday, at all! Oh, yes! I discovered your feeble attempt to fool me! How long did you think that a pile of sheets in your bed would trick me?"

Lan rubbed her head. Time for confession – of a sort. "Longer than it did, apparently."

Another smack made her head ring. "Don't you _dare_ be impertinent with me! Do you know what I had to do? _Do you have any idea what I was forced to do_? Who I had to contact? I had no choice!"

Lan's blood ran cold. _Ozai_. "Please tell me that you did not contact him."

"Of course I did! He gave me _implicit_ instructions. _Implicit_! I dared not disobey him. Had you been found out on the streets, had I _not _informed him of your disappearance –" her lips thinned. "I will not bear blame for your _idiocy_!" She grabbed Lan's arm and yanked her out of bed. "Now, tell me where you were!"

Lan Chi, however, was not going to tell her that she had gone to the palace. She simply _could_ not tell her – too much was at stake. Hua, Jianyu, Zuko – they had all conspired, had all helped her. They could be in serious trouble, all thanks to her. And the trouble that she herself would be in if the truth was discovered was considerable, at least.

"I just ran away! I walked around the city. I swear!" She hoped that her lie was not obvious.

"You're lying! You went to the palace, didn't you? You saw Prince Zuko! I know that you did!" She shook her by the arm.

"No! I _didn't_! I really didn't!"

"Then where did you _go_?"

"To the market, and, and to the – the park! I slept in a tree there! I swear it!"

The headmistress released her so suddenly that Lan stumbled to the floor.

The woman stood over her, pointing an accusatory finger. "For your sake, I hope that you are not lying." She turned with a swish of her skirts, but stopped at the door and pointed at Lan again. "You will stay in here until _I _come and get you. And I warn you, do not try to leave. You will _not_ want to pay the consequences."

She slammed the door behind her, leaving Lan Chi alone. The girl took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. The headmistress was very, very mad.

And Lan was in a great deal of trouble.

* * *

The letter that the Fire Lord had received the previous evening was short, yet still, in its brevity, obsequious. It began by lauding the Fire Lord's accomplishments, then his mercy. It finally concluded with one sentence that inflamed him beyond reason.

_...We humbly beg your majesty's forgiveness, and, with distress, must inform you that the Water Tribe child has __run away, and we do not know her whereabouts, despite an exhaustive search_.

He crumpled the letter in rage, then incinerated it in his hand.

He called one of his guards to him. "Bring Prince Zuko and Princess Azula to me. Immediately."

* * *

"What are _you_ doing here, Zu-Zu?" Azula was surprised to see her brother.

He was slumped in a chair in the ante-room outside the throne room, kicking idly at a rug. He looked up at her and shrugged. "Dad wants to see me."

She took a seat next to him. "He sent for me, too. I wonder what he wants. And at this time of night." Dark had fallen two hours prior. Why would her father call them to his _throne room_ of all places, right before bedtime?

Zuko shrugged again. He was avoiding her eyes.

She looked at him shrewdly. "What did you _do_, Zuko?"

He swung to look at her then. "Nothing!" His voice was indignant. _Too _indignant. "It was probably _you_, Azula. _Accidentally _burn anyone again?"

Her face suffused with rage. "Not yet." She snarled.

"Well, I didn't do anything. Don't look at me."

One of the royal guards came out from the throne room. "The Fire Lord will see you now."

The siblings walked down the long, imposing aisle, their matching boots making matching sounds on the highly polished floor. Once at the front, they both dropped to their knees, bent their torsos forward, and placed their forearms on the floor.

Their father was a long time in speaking. "Sit up."

They complied. Zuko noted that his father had not doused the flames in front of the throne. As a result, all that he could see was Ozai's shadowed figure.

"I will not prevaricate with you, and I expect the truth from you both."

Azula and Zuko, despite their usual enmity, shared an apprehensive look.

"My brother's ward has run away from the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. Which of you is hiding her?"

Zuko's pulse jumped, but Azula was the first to speak. "It is not I, Father. You know that I _loathe_ Lan Chi. _I_ would never help her." She looked pointedly at Zuko, who did not dare return her stare.

Ozai turned to his son. _Sniveling little fool_! "That leaves you, Prince Zuko."

"I have not see her, Sire." It was best to be very respectful. He hoped that his voice was even and did not betray him.

"She was a playmate when you were younger, Zuko. To whom else would she turn?"

Zuko, despite his internal quaking, looked at his father with an air of calm. "I do not know, my lord. It has been several years, after all, since I have seen her." He turned to Azula. "Azula has been in school with her every day for two years. Surely she knows Lady Lan Chi better than I."

"Are you _accusing _me, Zuko?" There was a note of outrage in her voice.

Zuko was all innocence. "Not at all, Azula. But you had a rather _exaggerated _reaction to that comment."

"I did not!" She turned to her father. "Father, I did not!"

"_Silence_!" He bellowed, and the flames exploded, sending the children back onto their rear ends. "Cease your bickering!" The flames continued to roar for a few moments, then returned to their normal size. "If I find out that _either_ of you has lied to me, your penalty will be severe." He waved his hand at them, which caused the flames to lick out towards them. "Get out of my sight."

* * *

Zuko was proud of himself. Actually, he was proud and ashamed. Proud that he had been able to stay so calm in face of the turmoil within him. Proud that he had been able to turn the tables on Azula, who had obviously been so eager to place the blame on him. Ashamed that he had lied to Father – he had never lied to him before, and the experience left a bad taste in his mouth. But the look of utter and absolute terror on Lan Chi's face when she had thought that he might tell someone – that convinced him that he should remain quiet.

He felt a shove as the throne room door closed behind them. He turned to find Azula standing behind him, hands fisted at her sides and smoking, and a murderous look on her face. "How dare you _accuse_ me, Zuko?"

He smirked, just a little, and folded his arm across his chest. "You seem awfully defensive for someone without a guilty conscience."

She stepped close to him, so close that he could see the pores on her face and the striations in her irises. "We both know that, if anyone helped your little girlfriend run away, and if there's anyone protecting her, _it's you_." She poked him in the chest.

He kept his smile fixed on his face. "You can't prove it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe not. But I _am _going back to school soon."

His eyes flickered uncertainly. "So?"

"So? So you _know _that she'll be found, don't you? And returned to the Academy. So, my question to you is: who's going to protect her then?"

* * *

Lan Chi had never been more afraid in her entire life, and for a girl who had lead a life such as hers, that was saying quite a bit.

She had, in fact, been very frightened since the headmistress had told her that Ozai had been contacted. Lan knew that she could survive the headmistress's wrath - she could face any punishment, any angry recriminations.

Ozai, however, was another matter entirely. He literally had the power of life and death, and she was not certain that he would refrain from exercising that power.

Hours went by, and she waited, just like when she was ten, and had been caught in Zuko's bed. She had waited for hours then, and she was doing the same now. Waiting. Waiting for what, she wasn't sure. Expulsion and then banishment? It would be horrible, but not much more horrible than life now – although Zuko would be out of her reach. House arrest? Still bearable. An audience with Ozai, and whatever punishment he could dole out? Absolutely, gut-wrenchingly terrifying.

When the summons finally came, it was almost a relief.

The headmistress flung open the door, as if she were afraid that Lan was waiting behind, ready to slit her throat. Her face was expressionless. "Come."

"Wh – where are we going?"

"My office."

"Oh." The worst fear trickled away. At least she wasn't going back to the palace. At least she wasn't facing Ozai. What was the worst that could happen? Maybe a paddling. Maybe year-long detention. Maybe she would be removed from the self-defense class. Bad but not tragic. Besides, anything that happened to her would be worth it. She would not have traded her time with Zuko – not for anything.

They came to the headmistress's office, and the woman opened the door. She indicated with a wave of her hand that Lan should precede her.

Lan walked into the office, and the door slammed behind her.

Ozai sat behind the headmistress's desk, and Lan jumped. Belatedly, as his eyes narrowed, she fell to her knees and pressed her forehead to the floor. She hoped that she would live to lift her head.

"My lord." Her voice was almost inaudible from the fear that closed her throat.

His voice was smooth and mellifluous. "Surprised to see me, Lady Lan Chi?"

"Yes, my lord."

He rose from the chair and came around the desk to loom over her. She could see his shadow fall over the floor, as well as the tips of his boots, and the hems of his robes.

"Do you know why I am here, Lady Lan Chi?"

She nodded.

"Answer me!" He yelled, and, again, she jerked in fear.

"Because I ran away, Sire."

"Yes. Because you ran away. Where did you go, Lady Lan Chi?"

She closed her eyes and asked the spirits to make her lies believable. _How shameful_, her inappropriate conscience said. "The city, my lord."

"The city? You live in the city."

"I – I am not allowed out."

So you went to _the city _– for what purpose? Why?"

"Because I could, my lord."

"So you ran away to _the city_ because you _could_?"

"Y-yes, Majesty."

"You didn't go to the palace?" His voice was deceptively light.

She shook her head again. "N-no, Sire."

He reached down and grabbed her collar and raised her to her knees to look at him. "You did not go to my palace to visit my son?"

She shook her head emphatically. "No, my lord."

"He has denied it, as well. Strange, I never pegged him for a liar. You, on the other hand, Lady Lan Chi – I suspect that you are an accomplished liar."

"Majesty, I pledge that I am telling the truth." The falsehood slid easily from her lips.

"So you did not sneak into the palace, meet with Prince Zuko, and take him to your bedchamber?"

Although her eyes dilated, she retained her composure. "N – no, my lord."

He released her clothing. "No, of course you didn't. My brother raised you _well_. You didn't go to your bedchamber with Prince Zuko, remove your clothes, and allow him to take your maidenhead, did you, _Lady_ Lan Chi?"

Her breath caught in her chest. "No, my lord! I would never! We would not! I swear!"

He nodded, his eyes like ice chips. "Good. Apparently when last we met, I did not make my position known to you. I would like to rectify that, and make myself very, very clear to you, Lady Lan Chi. You are _never_ to see my son again. Ever. You are not to _speak_ to him, you are not to _write _to him, you are not to _think_ of him. You will _never_ be allowed to marry him. Even if you carry his bastard in your belly. _Never. _You will never be queen. Never, while I live."

During this speech, he had grabbed both sleeves and raised her to her feet. Leaving his hands entangled in the cloth, he allowed them to heat until the fabric smoked.

He released her before the heat reached her skin. "I am grown weary of dealing with this _issue_ of you and my son." He leaned over and put his lips close to her ear. "And if I have to consider the issue again, Lady Lan Chi, then _you won't be an issue anymore_."

She closed her eyes, waiting for the blast of fire she was sure was coming to hit her.

Instead, she heard footsteps, and then the opening and shutting of the door.

After he had gone, she drew in deep, ragged lungfuls of air, not even realizing that she was holding her breath. She turned and took a step towards the door, but her legs would not hold her, and she crumpled to her knees.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** For you Mai fans out there (there must be one or two), I inserted my own feelings about her, which are, simply, that I do not know why she is the way she is. Which, I suppose, is how I should think about all people. One just don't know what goes on in someone's head or home, and I guess we all should try to give them the benefit of the doubt. Love thy brother/sister!

Enough sermonizing! I hope that you liked this chapter. It is a new member of _The Spirit Within _pantheon, but it seemed right.

We got a chance for some dysfunctional family fun with the Fire Nation royal family, and I allowed Zuko to triumph over Azula just this once. After all, she can't best him _all_ the time.

Ozai keeps on charming with his crassness and heavily unveiled threats. However, that is just the way he rolls!

As for Lan Chi, I hope that you find her realistic. She is very loyal to her family and true friends, but she is far from perfect. She will lie if she thinks it's necessary (or convenient), and she's always up for a bit of petty revenge!

Unfortunately, she received a big dose of reality when Ozai told her, emphatically, that he will never allow her to marry Zuko, no matter the circumstances. Her hopes of some day being Mrs. Zuko seem to have been dashed permanently.

Lan Chi's life definitely seems "writ in tears," that's for sure! However, great rewards await, if she can just persevere...


	14. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just plant acorns for Hei Bai's forest...**

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thank you for all the kind reviews. It is very exciting to find people who are as passionate about this storyline as I am! I have lived with these characters in my head for so long that, once I am finished telling their tale, I am certain that I will be bereft! Until then, I will be giddily skipping towards the end of part one, which will probably be in five chapters or so. Fear not, though! We will visit a not-very-distant-future Zuko and Lan Chi in part 2 – when all the fun REALLY begins!

Regarding all of the kind people who have said to me "I don't know why this fanfic does not have more reviews," I heartily concur! I am guessing that, because this is not a Zutara and is instead a Zuko x OC, many people dismiss it without even reading it! I don't know how to get past that roadblock – or, to be frank, if I should even care! Still, if anyone has any ideas about getting the fic out and about more, I would be VERY appreciative!

* * *

Summer turned into fall, and classes began again at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. Lan's roommates moved back in, with the exception of Ling, who had apparently received sufficient _town polish_ for her parents' satisfaction.

Lan Chi felt the loss of her only friend keenly. She had been particularly low since the interview with Ozai, and now she felt more alone than ever. The one thing that brought her any joy at all were the memories she carried of Zuko, but, along with those memories came the memory of Ozai's words – words that had destroyed the dreams she had carried secretly in her heart for so long.

Then, to further destroy any chance of happiness, the headmistress forbade her from enrolling in Self Defense and Fighting. Lan was instead placed into the Domestic Arts class, which she detested. Students were expected to learn domestic applications such as cooking, embroidering, and household management. It was not a subject at which she excelled.

It was, also, unfortunately, a class rather crowded with her enemies. Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai were all enrolled – apparently, Domestic Arts was quite an easy class that provided credit.

On the first day of class, Lan Chi walked in to find Azula and her cronies already there. As Lan walked past them, Azula gave a sound of disgust.

"What are _you _still doing here? I thought that the headmistress expelled you for whoring with my brother."

Lan stopped in her tracks, and turned to face Azula. The princess smiled at her evilly. "Is there something you wanted to say, Lan?" She cupped her hand to her ear. "What's that? You want me to give a message to _Zuko_ for you?" She said, overly loud.

Lan Chi's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Ozai had _obviously_ told Azula about his warning to Lan, and Azula had decided to have some fun with it. Despite Lan's desire to either encase Azula's head in ice or give her a _scathing_ setdown, she controlled both impulses and found a seat far, far away from the three girls.

The teacher came in, an excruciatingly thin woman with a shock of white hair. She introduced herself as Mistress Mei Shyr.

"I am very much looking forward to educating all of you young ladies in the domestic arts. A well-run home is a harmonious home. And a harmonious home leads to a harmonious husband. And, of course, if the husband is filled with _harmony_, then so is the wife." She folded her hands into her sleeves, and smiled beatifically, as if she had just imparted the secret of life to her students.

Lan Chi blinked. Apparently, the key to a happy marriage was a clean floor and a delicious meal. She had no idea. She thought love was the key to a happy marriage. Well, actually, it didn't matter to her_ what _the key to a happy marriage was, since she was not likely to experience one.

"We will begin this year's lessons with possibly _the_ most important skill that a wife should have – cooking." At grumbles from the girls, she smiled and lifted her hands. "Now, I understand that _most_ of you will have a staff and will probably never be called upon to cook a meal. However, it is a very valuable skill. It will also enable you to supervise your kitchen staff more closely, and know, for example, if your cook is cheating you in any way."

Lan rolled her eyes. If the worst that these girls faced was a cook who overcharged her employer for sugar, then they would have an idyllic life indeed.

"Now, of course, we have to start with the fundamentals of measuring, as well as identification of basic ingredients and utensils. Then, we will move on to actual cooking. At that point, we will start meeting in the Academy kitchens in order to use their facilities. Any questions?"

Lan felt like raising her hand. _How can I escape_?

That was not one of the questions answered, however, and Lan spent the rest of the class slumped at her desk, idly folding and unfolding parchment, the teacher's voice droning unintelligibly in her ears.

When the bell came that released them, Lan fairly flew from the room. She had to get out of the Domestic Arts class somehow, and back into Self Defense and Fighting. But how?

The answer came to her as easily as walking, which slowed as the solution unfurled in her mind. Mistress Zhi had removed her from music class because she could not bear Lan's tsungi horn playing any more. Maybe that would work for Domestic Arts. Perhaps, if Lan was such a bad student in that class, the teacher would beg her to go – anywhere.

So _Operation Burnt Offerings_ was put into motion. The first two weeks were actually weeks of preparation – both literally and figuratively. The girls, in class, were preparing to learn to cook, and Lan was preparing plans on how best to sabotage all of the upcoming cooking assignments. Clandestine waterbending would work to remove liquid from cookie and cake batters. Increasing the amount of wood in the ovens would burn the meat. Adding the wrong amounts of salt or garlic to sauces would take care of main courses as well as side dishes. So many ideas came to her mind on destroying every edible creation that she attempted that she wondered if she would get the opportunity to employ them all.

However, as she planned, so did Azula. Azula, though, planned not to ruin class, but to ruin Lan Chi's life. Every day when Lan entered the classroom, Azula had something to say as Lan passed the princess's desk. _Whore_ was a preferred name. As was _easy lay_, as well as _doxy_ and _tramp_. _Tart_ was a favorite of Lan's.

Azula's bullying of Lan was not limited to only whispered epithets.

"Lady Lan Chi," she called across the room on the day they were asked to identify ordinary cooking implements, "may I please borrow your _slutted _spoon?" The entire class collapsed in laughter. "Oh, my mistake, Lan. I meant _slotted_ spoon, of course."

Lan blushed, but ignored Azula. If Azula was unable to get a rise out of her, perhaps she would stop.

She didn't, and the weeks dragged on.

As Lan Chi was leaving the classroom at the end of the second week, Mistress Mei Shyr held her back.

The teacher waited until all of the other girls had gone before speaking. She looked at Lan kindly.

"Lady Lan Chi." She smiled. "I've been wanting to talk with you."

Lan was wary. "You have?"

The teacher nodded. "Yes, I have. I have – noticed the things that Princess Azula has been doing, and saying,"

Lan's heart sank.

"And I think that she is being _disgraceful_."

Lan's eyes grew wide.

"And, although I can't really do anything about it," _of course not_, Lan thought, "I wanted to tell you that I _do_ sympathize."

"Thank you, Mistress. That – really means a lot to me."

The teacher reached out and impulsively squeezed Lan's hand. "Do not let those nasty girls get you down."

Lan nodded. "Thank you, ma'am. I won't."

As Lan left the classroom, her face was long. There was no way she could sabotage the class now!

* * *

She dragged herself back to her chamber. None of her roommates were there, mercifully. Good – she didn't want to deal with them right now. She wanted to lie on her bed, dream about Zuko, and wallow in self-pity for a few hours.

She had really wanted to cause chaos in the Domestic Arts class, but, after the teacher had been so nice to her, she could not, in good conscience, go through with her plan. That left her without any idea of how to get out of that class and into Self Defense.

Rats! What could she do?

A niggling idea came slithering into her mind, and she tried to dismiss it. It was too ludicrous for words. It would never work.

_But why not_? Her audacious side asked. _You have had all your power taken from you, yet again. Take some back_!

The more she thought on it, the more she thought that it was worth a try. If nothing else, it would show the headmistress that she, Lan Chi, was a formidable force. One to be reckoned with, if she dared.

* * *

Lan Chi's plan was simple: convince the headmistress to allow her, Lan Chi, to transfer into Master Jiao Ao's class. A monumental task, but one she felt up to tackling. Unless she wanted to spend the rest of the school year learning how to stitch dragons into pillows and being subjected to Azula's salacious barbs, she would have to do _something_.

It was a bold plot, and fraught with uncertainty, but she felt she had no choice.

That night, after all her roommates were asleep, she crawled from her bed and, under the cover of darkness, changed into the clothes she had worn the night she had visited the palace. On silent feet, she eased open the chamber door, closed it behind her, and was off down the corridor.

Her goal was the headmistress's suite of rooms. Although she had never been to the headmistress's rooms, or even in the teachers' quarters, she knew that they all lived in the central tower of the school, with the headmistress's rooms being at the top. It was easy enough to gain entrance through the unlocked door at the bottom of the tower, and easier still to slip up each floor, past the other teachers' rooms. Through doors left ajar she could sometimes see the instructors engaged in their late night activities of reading, chatting with colleagues, quietly playing music, and other scholarly activities. Closed doors invariably meant that the instructor was asleep or did not want prying eyes to invade privacy.

At the very top of the tower was a set of double doors, ornate and heavy – obviously the headmistress's home. Lan Chi put her ear to the panels. She could hear, faintly, the sound of water running.

_Well, well, well, the headmistress has a private bath – lucky polarbear dog_!

She opened the door quietly and peered inside. The room was in darkness but for a few candles. Lan let herself in.

It was a large area, more than twice the size of her own room, which slept four, and Lan again thought about the fairness of the headmistress having a huge bedroom with attached bath.

_Ah, well_, she thought_, the benefits of power_.

Lan crept to what seemed to be the bathroom door. There was still the sound of running water, but it seemed, from the sound, to be coming from a sink. She might come out soon.

Lan found a chair by the window, and silently turned it to face the rest of the room. She curled up in it and waited.

She had only to wait about five minutes.

The headmistress came out of the bathing chamber clad in a soft dressing gown, her hair down and face scrubbed clean. She looked much older than usual.

"Hello, Headmistress."

Lan enjoyed seeing her jump in fear.

"How dare you? What are you doing here?" She demanded, her composure regained.

Lan smiled slightly. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Get out before I call the guards! Immediately!" She raised an imperious finger towards the door.

"You're going to call the guards for a thirteen year old girl? You're not frightened of me, are you? I'm only a child, after all." It was all going very well so far, Lan reflected. Her voice did not shake. Her eyes were not dilated in fear.

The woman flushed. "You're a demon!" She picked up a small vase, presumably in defense.

"There are some people who agree with you." Lan acknowledged.

"What do you really want?" She raised the vase as if to throw it at Lan.

Lan tensed her body to spring aside if necessary. "I just want to talk to you – and to apologize."

That startled the headmistress. "To – to apologize?" She started to lower the vase, then thought better of it. "That doesn't excuse you breaking into my room."

"It's true. I'm sorry. But what I want to say to you is best said far from prying eyes – and ears." She added.

"Well, say what you want to say and be gone! And don't think that you won't pay for this tomorrow!"

Lan ignored her last statement. "I wanted to apologize for running away this summer."

The headmistress finally lowered the vase. "Oh, yes?"

"I was bored, and – idle. And you know what they say about being idle."

"Of course I know what they say! _I'm a teacher_!"

"Anyway, I was bored, and I wanted to _see_ if I could run away."

"Well, you succeeded!" Her voice was indignant.

"I did. I got out, went to the palace, and got back in here without ever being caught."

"Ha!" The headmistress screeched, and pointed a triumphant finger at Lan. "I knew it! I knew it!"

She shrugged. "So did the Fire Lord." She shook her head. "He was _very_ angry."

"As well he should have been – you, you _harlot_!"

"He was mad at you, too," Lan pointed out.

At the reminder of the Fire Lord's rage, the headmistress dropped her triumphant finger.

"It's true – what the Fire Lord must have told you – I did go to the palace, and I met Prince Zuko, and we went to my chamber." When it seemed that the headmistress was about to say something, Lan held up her hand. "Nothing happened, though. Just a few kisses."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true, though. We were only _twelve_!" It was her turn to be indignant.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to know that I only ran away because I was _bored_. And I'm bored now. My classes – aren't _challenging _to me. Domestic Arts? Mind-numbingly boring. I can't stand embroidery – or cooking. Don't get me wrong," she hastened to add, "Mistress Mei Shyr is a _wonderful_ teacher, but I'm just not interested in the subject."

The headmistress's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"I want to you to transfer me to Master Jiao Ao's Self Defense and Fighting class."

"No. Absolutely not." She shook her head emphatically.

"If you don't, I'll run away again."

"Don't threaten me."

"I'm not threatening you. I'm really not. But I _will_ run away again. I promise."

The headmistress's chin lifted. "You can try."

"I'll also succeed. You can't keep me under lock and key. Unless you want to assign a guard to watch me twenty-four hours a day, I'll get away. You know that. You know I can."

The headmistress's face took on a mulish set. "Go ahead. Run away. I don't care."

"I'll go to the palace again, and I'll find Prince Zuko, and we'll find someplace private, and then," here came the lie that she had been practicing, "I'll give myself to him."

"You'll just prove to everyone what a slut you are!"

Here was what Lan Chi hoped would change the headmistress's mind. "I'll let the Fire Lord find us." She seemed to consider this a moment. "Maybe we'll use his bedchamber."

Even in the dim light, Lan could see the woman's eyes grow round. "_You would not dare_!"

"Yes. Yes, I would. And I'll even tell him _you _encouraged me."

"He won't believe such hogwash!" Her voice sounded uncertain.

Lan shrugged. "He might not. But, he _might_."

The headmistress's face was a mask of rage and hatred. "You are a horrible, horrible, horrible girl."

"All I want is to be in Self Defense and Fighting. I promise I won't run away."

"Ha! As if I would trust the word of a filthy – " she fumbled for words, _"girl_ like you."

"You don't need to trust my word. I am just telling you that if you don't transfer me into Master Jiao Ao's class, then you can be certain that, at the first opportunity, I'll head for the palace."

The headmistress looked at her for a long moment, weighing Lan's words and measuring her fortitude. "Fine!" She spat.

Lan smiled and stood.

The headmistress's lip curled derisively. "I rue the day that you ever came to this school."

"So do I, Headmistress."

* * *

It was with a giddy sense of anticipation that Lan Chi entered the bending hall the next week. She stopped just inside the doorway, and looked at all the weapons of mayhem spread around her. Knives, maces, jian, and guando – all harmless replicas, of course, scattered around the room, as well as the bows and arrows piled by the windows. She drew in a deep, cleansing breath. She was _home_ – well, as close to home as this hellish place would allow her to be. Here, _she_ was in control. Every slash of every blade, every flight of every arrow – it was within her power to direct them, to guide them – it was her decision their paths. No Fire Lord, no Prince or Princess, no Uncle, had dominion over her while she held a dagger or drew a bow string.

Master Jiao Ao entered from another door, and Lan ran across the hall to throw her arms around him. "Oh, Master Jiao Ao, how glad I am to see you!"

He was stiff in her arms. "Lady Lan Chi, this is not a seemly display."

She dropped her arms and stepped back. "I apologize, Master. I'm just so _happy_ to see you!" Her smile was infectious.

He chuckled. "I am glad to see you, too, child." He clapped her on the shoulder. "I despaired of every having you in class again. Tell me, how did you convince the headmistress to transfer you?"

Her face reddened, and she gave a small cough into her hand. "Well, as to that, I – "

He held up his hand. "On second thought, I do not want to know."

"Yes, Master."

The other students began filing in. Many were girls who had been in class the year before, and, upon seeing her, several groaned.

"Do not take it personally, my lady. They are just remembering the thorough thrashings you gave them last year."

Lan frowned. "Shall I go easier on them, Master?"

He looked at her in horror. "A warrior never shows mercy to an opponent, Lady Lan Chi. It is dishonorable, and not befitting one of your station."

Lan drew herself up. "Yes, Sir."

"We are working on knife defense. Would you care to jump right in?"

Lan smiled. "Oh, yes. Please."

* * *

**Author's Post Chapter Note: ** Well, Lan finally took the bull by the horns and stopped letting life knock her around! Her _chutzpah_ got her back into her favorite class and away from Azula's claws, which is a triumph.

I was kind of worried about allowing her to look upon all the weapons in the bending hall with such fondness, but for her, they represent something she _can_ control, unlike her life.

However, being back in Self Defense and Fighting class, although taking her out of Azula's realm, plunges her into someone else's...


	15. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just carry Uncle's pai sho board around.**

* * *

**Author's Pre-chapter Notes:** Again, I give thanks to those of you willing to invest your time in a) reading this fic, and b) reviewing it! I understand that time is very precious, and to know that you are dedicating some of your free time to my characters is very humbling to me!

I do hope that you enjoy this chapter. It has a lot of Jiao Ao, and sets up a mighty clash between Lan Chi and another character...

I have decided, from now on, to post new chapters on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, until Part One is done. I have the next two chapters completely done, and am about halfway through the chapter after that. However, although I know that I said several chapters ago that there were only four or five chapters left, I apparently underestimated Lan Chi's and Zuko's desires to have the story of their early lives revealed. SO...I have now revised that estimate, and say that, AFTER this chapter, there should be four or five left.

I think.

* * *

"Lady Lan Chi, may I speak to you for one moment?"

Master Jiao Ao beckoned to Lan with one hand. She released the headlock she had on her opponent, and the girl stumbled to the floor.

"Sorry," Lan said, insincerely. She really wasn't sorry. The girl had laughed at her one too many times, and this was the price she had to pay.

It was not that Lan was petty; she was not, but, as a child of the Fire Nation, she had been taught that honor and _saving_ _face_ were of utmost importance. The girl had attempted to humiliate her on several occasions, and had succeeded on other occasions – this was retribution.

No mercy. That's what Jiao Ao had taught her. That was what Piandao had taught her. That was what the Yu Yan had taught her. To do anything less was not only dishonorable, it was _foolhardy_ – and dangerous.

She tossed aside the wooden dagger she had been using, and came over to bow before Jiao Ao. "Master."

His eyes narrowed at her. "Have you been training with the jian, Lady Lan Chi?"

"Yes, Sir. Every night, for a half hour." She was at attention, looking forward and not at him.

"Do you think that sufficient, my lady?"

She stole a look at him. "No?"

"And the guando?"

Her face colored. "I have – not been training with it – recently."

"Do you not find its mastery important?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

"Well, Lady Lan Chi?"

"Yes, Master. Vitally important."

"And the dagger?"

Finally! Something she had been training with amply. "Two hours a day, Sir."

He seemed to approve. "Archery?"

Her métier. "Two to three hours, Master."

"A day?" He seemed surprised.

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you not have homework from other classes?"

"I complete it during lunch, usually."

His brows raised. "All of it?"

"Yes, Master."

"Do you excel in other classes, as you do in mine?"

She smiled – he said that she excelled at Self Defense and Fighting! "My esteemed teachers say that I am among their top students."

"Do they? A well-rounded young woman, indeed."

"Thank you, Master."

"Lady Lan Chi, do you know the purpose of this class?"

She looked at him briefly, confused. "Um, self defense and – um, fighting?"

He nodded. "Exactly." He turned to look at the rest of the class, all involved in sparring. "Do you know what the thread is that binds all the students in this class?"

Lan followed his gaze. "We are all – girls, Master?"

"Non-benders, Lady Lan Chi. You are all non-benders."

"Oh."

"Benders have a distinct advantage in war, my lady, and indeed, in life. Do you agree?"

"Yes, Master."

"Why is that, Lady Lan Chi?"

"Because they have weapons that we cannot hope to command or master."

"Yes. It would be as if benders were unable to master the use of the dagger – or the jian – or the guando – or the bow. And we know that they can. So they are at an advantage. Self Defense and Fighting class _evens_ the odds, so to speak, between benders and non-benders. That is why I train you all so hard – because you cannot hope to fight and defeat a bender of any element unless you have _mastery_, _true mastery_, of your weapon."

"Yes, Sir."

"There will be a competition next month, Lady Lan Chi, to wrap up our unit on knife defense. I am going to choose six girls from all of my classes, to do battle." He turned to the other girls again.

Lan's eyes widened.

"The best students. Competing against one another, in front of the entire school. My goal is to put the benders on notice, Lady Lan Chi. They may have a physical superiority, but they are _not superior_." He faced her. "Are you interested?"

"Oh, yes, Sir. I am _definitely _interested."

* * *

Training was intense for the next month. Jiao Ao told Lan to give up all other weapon training in order to concentrate on the dagger. Although she itched to pick up the bow, she refrained, and instead poured all her free time into knife defense and fighting. She practiced on dummies and on classmates, although neither gave her much of a challenge.

One day, Jiao Ao asked if she would like to spar with him, and she agreed with excitement.

"Allow me to explain the basics of the competition to you first, Lady Lan Chi. And, also, if you don't mind, I would like to find out how much theory you know."

"Yes, Master."

"Please forgive me if what I am about to say to you is redundant. You have not been my pupil for very long, and am certain that Master Piandao shared all this with you, but humor an old man."

She gave a lopsided smile. He was not very old.

"Knife defense, for lack of a better term, is _not_ something that you would be using in combat. Knife against knife combat is relatively rare. The goal of combat is to defeat and likely kill your opponent – not to show some clever techniques. Those who try are likely to become the defeated. Does any of this sound familiar to you, Lady Lan Chi?"

Piandao had given her much the same speech years before. "Yes, Master, but I believe it bears repeating. Could you please continue?"

"Very well. As I was saying, intricate footwork and strikes look very nice, but, in an _actual_ fight, they may bring about your death. Never a pleasant outcome."

"No, Sir."

"When you are fighting in the real world, you can assume that your opponent is intending to assassinate you. They are not there to flip you over a shoulder and continue on. They are there to kill you before you kill them. You will succeed if your weapon is stronger, if you are faster, and if you do not hesitate."

She nodded, and he continued.

"This is what this competition is about. Real world fighting. No niceties. No sparing the other person's feelings. No mercy."

"We are not using real blades, though, are we, Master?"

He shook his head. "I don't want my students to kill each other. I don't want you to hurt each other, either. I just want you to treat this as a possible situation that you might encounter in the future – an encounter that your life might depend on. Can you do that, Lady Lan Chi?"

"Yes, Master."

"The tip of each wooden knife will be dipped in red paint – to simulate blood, of course. Any strike against the throat, head, or torso will result in a loss of a round. There are three rounds. Should neither opponent strike the kill zone, non-lethal strikes will be tallied at the end of each round, and the one with the greater number of non-lethal strikes shall be given that round. You may utilize other fighting techniques as well – as long as there is nothing used above the neck."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"You may wrestle with your opponent, trip them, kick them. But there is no biting, no eye gouging, or the like. Each round is three minutes, and victory in two out of three rounds determines the winner."

"Yes, Sir."

"Are the rules clear?"

She nodded.

"No questions?"

"No, Sir."

"Now, back to theory. Skill is very important, is it not, my lady?"

"Yes, Master. The most important thing."

He shook his head sadly. "Master Piandao did not tell you that, did he?"

Lan's brow furrowed. She thought that he had. Now she doubted her memory. "I – I thought that he had, Sir."

"I doubt it. Come, Lady Lan Chi." He led her to a cabinet that she had never seen him open before. He pulled out a pair of wicked looking dao swords. "We do not teach this weapon here, Lady Lan Chi. Do you know why?"

"They are too dangerous, Sir?"

"They are mostly certainly dangerous. But, no, that is not the reason. These weapons – stand back, please." She obeyed, giving him a wide space. He sliced through the air with one of the swords at a speed so fast that she did not see him move until his maneuver was done. "These weapons are primarily used for slashing and hacking." He swung the sword back again. "For chopping off heads. For front-line combat. It is a weapon of strength – brute strength." She remembered Zuko demonstrating his dao swords to her years before, and, she pictured, in her mind, present-day Zuko, a Zuko of brute strength, brandishing the swords.

Her knees went weak.

He replaced the swords in the cabinet. "That is why we do not teach them to young ladies. Most females cannot use them properly – cannot do them justice." He removed a fearsome-looking dagger from the cabinet. It had a slight arch, and a wickedly sharp edge. "This is a weapon for a woman. It requires little upper body strength. It is small and can be carried on your person." He brandished it as if he had an enemy in front of him, and demonstrated stabbing his invisible opponent. "It slides into the flesh like a warm knife into butter." He straightened. "Just as deadly as the dao, but subtle. Much more _subtle_."

"Yes, Sir. Master Piandao told me the same thing."

"Yes. We shared the same master. Much of our teaching is similar."

He walked her back across the hall. "Combat, for one using the dao, is not about skill. It's about _survival_. With either knife, you can be the most skilled swordsman in the realm, and still fall to one with much less training than you. Because the _willingness_ to do what must be done to survive _true _combat is from _within_ you. It must come from you; it cannot come from your Master, it cannot come from an order from a commanding officer. It isn't about skill, or footwork, or wrist locks; it's about surviving. If you mistake that when you are confronted with it, you will die, because you will not be able to reckon with it, and you will fail to react to someone who knows the difference. It should be second nature. It should be an extension of your instinct."

Lan had been enthralled by his speech, and stood stunned for a moment. He smiled, and she snapped out of her reverie. Lan Chi drew in a deep breath. "I understand, Master."

His brow raised. "Good. Are you ready to fight me?"

"Yes, Master."

"So, what are you waiting for?" He threw her a wooden dagger, and grabbed one for himself.

She took the dagger in her hand and felt its heft. It was light, and she twirled it in her hand a few times to get a feel for it.

Jiao Ao was already circling, and she had to rotate to keep him within her sight. His legs and elbows were bent slightly, and he watched her with eyes devoid of emotion. He turned his body into her slightly, and she saw an opening. She lunged for him, and his dagger found a spot beneath her ribs.

She jumped back, startled.

Jiao Ao's face was disappointed. "You are dead, my lady. Had this been a combat situation, I would be the victor, and you would be the victim."

She flexed her neck back and looked at the ceiling with self disgust. She had seen an opening, an easy opening, not realizing until too late that it was a trap. It had taken Jiao Ao a total of ten seconds to defeat her.

"Would you like to go again, Lady Lan Chi?"

She took a stance, trying to divorce all her training from a desire for survival. She tried to feel the years of training fall away, the thinking, the strategizing, the techniques, until all that was left was a pure connection between her body and her desire to _live_.

"Yes, Master. I would."

* * *

She ended up sparring with Jiao Ao for the remainder of the class time, and into the next. He was relentless and sly, and always bested her. Once, she thought she had an advantage, but her hand hesitated and he slipped away, and the next she knew his dagger was across her throat. He released her.

"Why did you not press me when you had the chance, my lady?"

She shook her head. "I do not know."

He pointed a finger at her. "I do. You hesitated because it was your master you faced. No mercy, Lady Lan Chi. No quarter given."

"Yes, Sir."

"Again?"

"Yes, Sir."

They continued fighting, although Lan Chi noted that the kicking and tripping that he mentioned earlier were not utilized by him at all.

"Gives me an unfair advantage, with my height and weight," he explained.

At the end of an hour and a half, with her opponent tiring, Lan saw her opportunity. She ducked beneath his arm as he moved in for a strike, and brought the point of her knife softly against the underside of his chin.

His eyes widened, and he stepped back immediately. "Well done, Lady Lan Chi. Well done, indeed."

"I have not failed you, Master?"

"Why would you say that, my lady?"

"Dozens of times we fought, and I only beat you once."

He smiled. "I have been studying this art for over thirty years. Did you think that you would rout me?"

"No, but –"

"Lady Lan Chi, you are an admirable and formidable opponent, and I am honored to call you my student. As I am sure Piandao is, as well."

She bowed to him, and he returned the bow.

"Ah, look who is here. My other star pupil. Lady Lan Chi, are you acquainted with Lady Mai?"

Mai stood before them, glaring at Lan Chi. In her hand, she clutched a piece of parchment.

"We – we have been in classes together, Master." Lan hated that her voice broke. She also hated that Jiao Ao had called Mai a _star pupil_.

"She is one of the best I have ever trained. She is quite good, Lady Lan Chi, of that separation we spoke of – separation between technique and _instinct_."

_She is also quite good of that separation between herself and **personality**_, Lan thought.

Mai smiled at Master Jiao Ao's compliment. "Master, Mistress Mei Shyr will not let me out of Domestic Arts during the week of the competition." She waved the paper at Jiao Ao, and he took it from her hand.

"Let me see this." He unfolded it and walked off to read it in private.

Lan and Mai stood watching each other with distrust and dislike. Mai was the first to speak. "So you left Domestic Arts to come here."

"Yes," Lan snapped. "And you're in one of Master Jiao Ao's other classes?"

"The _Advanced_ class."

Lan's eyes narrowed. "You've been a student of his for long?"

A smirk lifted one side of her mouth. "Since I was five."

_Seven years_? Wow, that was a long time.

"So you're going to be in the competition?" Mai asked her.

"Yes." Lan lifted her chin.

Mai gave a short bark of laughter. "You don't have a prayer of beating me."

That caused Lan's blood to boil. Arrogant! "Master Jiao Ao thinks that I do. In fact, he said that I am the one to beat."

The lie tripped lightly from her lips, and found its target. Mai scowled.

"I am going to destroy you," Mai said, quietly. "In front of the entire school."

Lan smiled with superiority. "You can try."

Just then, Jiao Ao came back and handed Mai the refolded parchment. "Please convey it to Mistress Mei Shyr with my respects."

"Yes, Master." Her eyes slid by Lan as she turned to go.

* * *

**Author's Post Chapter Notes:** First of all, we finally get an opportunity to see how Mai and Lan Chi will face off (which I have been promising you for quite a while now). It should be exciting, as they are well-matched.

Also, we get to see that Jiao Ao may have been one of the first Equalists. He seems to think that benders are a little too big for their britches, and he wants them to see what well-trained warrior girls can do! Sisters are doing it for themselves! Er, or something like that...


	16. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just clean all the picture frames in the Fire Lord's palace.**

* * *

**Author's Pre Chapter Notes: **Many thanks go out to you all, who have followed this story, and who have given me such kind reviews. I hope that this chapter does not disappoint!

I also wanted to discuss age. A lot of people have commented that the adult reactions to Lan & Zuko have been over the top – in other words, that the adults who have attributed sexual motives to Lan's actions are out of line. I heartily agree, but, with the marrying age in the Northern Water Tribe being 16, the fact that Aang obviously had romantic intentions towards Katara since the beginning (he was 12), and keeping in mind that in the canonical comic "The Promise," (part 2 available now – support the franchise and BUY it), Aang and Katara are smoochy throughout (it does take place a couple of years after the Aang defeated Ozai, I believe), I decided that it was within the realm of possibility for the adults to think that. Also, keeping in mind that Romeo and Juliet were only 14, it's not so far fetched.

Anyway, that's my story, and I'm sticking with it! ; )

Having said that, I DO NOT advocate 12 year old girls sneaking into boys' bedrooms...

* * *

From the moment that Lan Chi discovered that Mai would likely be her opponent at some point in the competition, she began training during every spare moment. She started to neglect her homework, and all of her meals were eaten on the run.

She was determined to beat Mai, for several reasons. Reason number one was Lan Chi's long lamented hair, which was still not fully grown back. Reason number two was the fact that Mai was an accomplice in Azula's ongoing plot to make Lan's life agony. Reason number three was the matter with Zuko – that Mai had kissed him, before Lan. The fourth, fifth, and sixth reasons she wanted to defeat Mai were also Zuko.

Training was not as easy as she would have liked. To begin with, none of the girls in her class wanted to spar with her. Apparently, it was not any fun to spar when there was absolutely no chance of winning, and when defeat usually came within thirty seconds.

So, as a result, she practiced by herself, going through forms, trying to picture, in her mind's eye, the technique that she envisioned Mai would use. Except that she couldn't envision the technique that Mai used, since she had never seen Mai fight. She needed to remedy that.

* * *

Her first chance to remedy that came the next day, when, after having learned that Mai was in Master Jiao Ao's last class, she decided to forgo Calligraphy class in order to spy on Mai. Lan did not see it as spying, though – simply as _sizing up the competition_. However, she did not really want to be _seen_ sizing up Mai. Therefore, she had to wear some sort of disguise.

Her options for disguises, she admitted, were very limited. Really, the only disguise she could muster was her old stand-by – the stolen scarf. She tied it over her hair, and hoped that no one would notice her.

It was a forlorn hope, unfortunately. After Mai's class had begun, Lan Chi crept in, and tried to blend in near the master's weapons cabinet, where she watched the pupils, Mai included, warm up. There was nothing in Mai's warm-up that taught her anything, other than the fact that Mai seemed very flexible.

As the girls warmed up, Jiao Ao caught sight of Lan.

He came over to her. "Lady Lan Chi. What are you doing here?"

She gave him an unconvincing smile. "Just – looking for something..." She trailed off.

He gave her a knowing look. "Or spying on Lady Mai?"

She allowed her eyes to become round and innocent. "Master, I would never do that!"

"Would you lie to your master?" He tugged on her scarf, and it came off. He handed it to her with a wry look.

A look of self-disgust came over her face. "Yes, apparently, I would." Her shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry, Master. I _am _spying. It's dishonorable, I know, but I just – wanted to see how Mai fights. I wanted to – take her measure as an opponent."

A reluctant smile came over his face. "Very wise of you, Lady Lan Chi. However, that would give you an unfair advantage over the other girls."

She was crestfallen. "That's true."

"However, if the other girls were able to see you practice, then everyone would be equal. Would you be amenable to that?"

She thought on it a moment. "I suppose so." It was said reluctantly. She really didn't mind having an unfair advantage.

"Let's ask Lady Mai her opinion, shall we?"

She was horrified. Let Mai know she was spying on her? "Oh, but, Master –"

Jiao Ao had already called Mai over.

As Mai walked up, she scraped Lan Chi with a look that said that the Water Tribe child was of no consequence.

"Yes, Master?" She asked in her particular, gravelly voice.

Jiao Ao briefly explained the plan as he had concocted it, but he attributed it to Lan, saying it was _a wonderful idea_. Lan, despite her best efforts to look nonchalant, blushed.

Mai looked briefly at Lan, then back to Jiao Ao. "Fine. I don't care. May I go practice, Master?"

"Yes, of course, Mai. Make plans with your Domestic Arts mistress to come view Lan's class tomorrow."

"She'll be thrilled that I am missing another class." Mai said dryly.

"Ah, well, you can learn how to cook dumplings another day."

He turned to Lan Chi. "I will arrange for the other girls to come see you. Perhaps we can do it all in one day." He patted her on the shoulder and went off to get back to his class.

Lan gave a deep sigh. It did not work out the way that she had planned it. Oh, well, at least she would get to observe Mai.

She took a seat on the floor and watched as Mai returned to the sparring circle.

Mai took a wide-legged stance, the dagger held limply in her hand. Her opponent was over eager, Lan could tell, and rushed Mai. Mai stepped aside easily and brought the wooden blade down on the back of her adversary's neck.

The girl rolled to her feet and lunged towards Mai with her arm extended. Mai blocked her fist with her hand and then, using her other hand, hit the inside of the girl's elbow, causing her arm to crumple. The girl lurched forward., and Mai grabbed her around the neck with one arm, swinging her to the ground.

Mai tossed her opponent's dagger to the floor.

Lan blinked. She had not even seen Mai disarm her. She was _fast_.

The rest of the training went the same way. Mai dealt with all of her opponents ruthlessly well, her movements sparse, efficient, and deadly.

Lan's cheeks puffed as she blew air out. This was going to be more of a challenge than she had previously thought.

* * *

Lan did get to see all the other competitors train, but was really only concerned with Mai. The other girls were good, and some were _very_ good, but Lan knew that she was better than they were, and she knew that Mai was definitely better.

The other girls came to see her, as well, and she noted Mai watching her with a strange intensity, as if committing all of Lan's movements to memory. She felt uncomfortable under the gaze of those almond-shaped eyes that never even seemed to blink.

Jiao Ao noticed Lan's discomfort, and came over to see her.

"She is unnerving you."

Lan lowered her eyes in shame. "Yes, Master."

"She will win if you let her. She will exploit your weakness, but you," he emphasized his words with a poke at her breastbone, "you have the capability – the talent – to defeat her, if you let go."

"Of my training?"

"Yes. Of everything. You don't like Lady Mai. You resent her. There is bad blood there, I know. I am not oblivious to the undercurrents between you. But you must let go of it, and see the competition not as a grudge match, but as a matter of survival. Don't go in with anger – go in with the desire to live."

"Yes, Master. I will – try."

* * *

Lan spent the last days before the match training, but also meditating. She was trying to figure out how to let go of her training. The training that she had received from Piandao, from Jiao Ao, and from the Yu Yan was the one constant in her life. Everything depended on it. Her school work, her fortitude in facing Azula, her resistance to all of the headmistress's cruelty, her strength to stand in the face of Ozai's ire – all of it was a result of her training. She firmly believed that, and, now, to be asked to divorce herself from that, was very difficult.

Not very difficult – almost impossible. For hours, she sat, trying to will her mind into quietness, trying to concentrate on how her training limited her, how it connected to her, and how she could release it.

She could not detach her thinking mind from her reactive mind. She kept falling back to her masters' words, their teaching, and instead of allowing them to guide her body, she allowed them to guide her mind.

She grunted and shook her head. She could do this. She _could_ release it. She took a deep breath, and searched within herself. She pictured that conscious part of her peeling away, separating, leaving only the instinct that she had honed. The way the dagger felt in her hand, the way her muscles felt as the blade slipped forward, the sensation of finishing off her opponent. The raw, pure energy coursing through her body.

She could feel it tingle down to her fingers, down to her toes. She pulled away the layers of her training, and with it peeled away her ego, her very sense of self, and awoke within herself a primal presence – a presence that allowed her training to become a part of her, not just a facade pasted onto her conscious mind.

She was ready.

Or at least as ready as she would ever be.

* * *

The day of the competition was rainy, an early fall storm beating on the windows and clattering on the cobblestones. It was a good sign for the Water Tribe child; her element all around her, sustaining her, bolstering her.

Lan opened the window of her chamber and reached her arms out, feeling the cool water hit her skin with a sting, then feeling the soothing comfort instantly wash away the pain. She rubbed the droplets over her face, and felt the clarity that it gave her. She inhaled the sweetly metallic tang, and felt peace come over her. She would win. She knew that she would.

Jiao Ao had arranged for all of the combatants to have to the morning free from classes, and Lan assumed that the others were in the bending hall, feverishly trying to get in last minute work outs or trying to hone their skills just that little bit – that bit that would allow them to triumph over their opponents.

She, however, chose to stay in her room, alone, and meditate. Controlling her conscious mind – putting aside her emotions – was so new, so _strange_ to her that she felt she had to reinforce it, and assimilate it until it became second nature.

She sat down on her bed and crossed her legs, and sought that mindless presence...

* * *

She vaguely heard the school bell ring, and pulled herself, with difficulty, back to reality. One hour until the start of the match. Time to go.

There was a buzz of anticipation in the halls as she walked through, and, to her surprise, a couple of classmates stopped her to give words of encouragement.

"You can do it, Lan," a girl from Calligraphy class smiled.

"Get her!" This was from a girl in Mathematics.

"Make our house proud!" One of her roommates clapped her on the arm.

Lan smiled. Apparently, some students disliked Mai more than they feared Azula.

The bending hall had been transformed. The piles of weapons were gone, as was the archery target and the equipment used by the firebending students. On three sides of the room had been erected bamboo bleachers to accommodate the audience.

Lan swallowed the dry lump in her throat.

Master Jiao Ao came over to her. "Lady Lan Chi. The other contestants are warming up." He pointed to the far end of the hall, where five girls were busy going through forms or doing calisthenics. She approached them, although she did not greet them, and they did not say anything to her. She recognized the other four girls from around the school, and, although she had never been in Self Defense and Fighting with any of them, she recalled two of them from other subjects. They were all dressed in soft gray sparring clothes, like Lan herself. Mai, Lan noticed, wore her hair as she usually did, long, and not secured in top knots or braids, unlike the other girls, and unlike Lan herself.

_She thinks she is not going to get her hair messed up_, Lan thought. _Oh, I'll mess her hair_! She shook her head to clear it. _Don't be emotional. Survival should be the only thing in your mind_.

She began to stretch, but consciously avoided thinking about the upcoming bouts. Thinking about them would lead her to thinking about strategy, and she wanted to keep her mind away from that. Over-thinking was what Jiao Ao had warned her about, and she was resolute that she would not allow her training to overshadow her survival instinct.

The spectators began to file into the hall, and Lan noted the headmistress and all the teachers settling in one bleacher section. The headmistress stared at Lan with murder in her eyes, but Lan pointedly turned away. This was her moment, and she would not let the woman ruin it.

Azula and Ty Lee came in amongst a crowd of other girls, and took seats in the front row. Lan glanced over at Azula briefly, to find the princess staring at her, a superior, smug smile on her face. Lan's lip curled, but she caught herself, and released the turmoil in a soft exhalation of breath.

Soon, the stands were filled to capacity, and Lan wondered, with half her mind, if the bleachers could hold that many people. As the last students filed in, Jiao Ao called his combatants together.

"Ladies, you are here because you are the best of the best of the Royal Fire Academy of Girls. You are not benders, but you are the equals of every bender in this room. And often, you are their superiors. Remember that, and go out and compete _with honor_."

Every girl gave their master a firm nod, and Jiao Ao arranged them in a straight line, facing the audience, Lan Chi at one end and Mai, coincidentally, at the other. The master walked over to confer with the headmistress, who nodded several times, and stood.

They walked to the center of the sparring circle, faced the students, and the headmistress raised her arms for quiet. The uproar died somewhat, but it was still too loud for her to be heard. The master, with a stern look on his face, lifted his hands, as well, and a silence fell over the hall. The headmistress gave Jiao Ao a chilly smile, and spoke.

"Ladies, we are in for a special treat today. Master Jiao Ao's Self Defense and Fighting students will be entertaining us today with feats of martial artistry. I am certain that many of you have a favorite for whom you are cheering, but please be respectful to all of the contestants." She turned to the competitors. "Girls, thank you for participating. We all know that it has taken years of dedication to achieve this level, and we applaud you." She started applauding softly, although no one followed her lead. "I said," she yelled, "_we applaud you_!" The audience launched into thunderous applause, and Lan smiled. It was actually a rather nice speech – not something she expected from the headmistress.

The headmistress took her seat, and Jiao Ao took the floor, facing the audience. "Ladies, may I present to you the greatest warriors of the Royal Fire Academy for Girls?"

A roar went up from the audience, although some of the girls looked confused.

Lan had to smile. Jiao Ao was brave – no one could accuse him of cowardice, that was certain.

The competitors bowed to the audience, and Jiao Ao went on to explain the rules. Strikes in the torso, head, or neck won a round. Non-lethal hits in the extremities was considered a strike. Leaving or being pushed outside the ring was also a strike. If no lethal hits were landed in a round, strikes would be counted and the girl who had scored the most strikes in that round was declared the winner of that round. Victory in two rounds won the match.

There would be a total of five matches, with two girls sitting out the first round and the other four battling one on one. The victor of the first round would then, after a fifteen minute break, and while the other preliminary round was being fought, fight one of the girls who had not yet battled. The victor of that battle would then face the victor of the other, until a winner was declared.

It was a random draw, and Lan Chi was one of the first round combatants, while Mai sat out. It so happened, also, that, for Mai and Lan Chi to meet, it would be in the final match. Lan as much hoped that she did not have to fight Mai as much as she hoped that she _did_ have to fight her.

Lan's opponent was a girl in the grade ahead whom Lan had seen only in the dining hall and during school-wide events, named Bai Sheng. She was about four inches taller than Lan, and outweighed the Water Tribe child by twenty-five pounds.

Lan, however, was not concerned. She knew that weight was not always an advantage.

The daggers were dipped in a red paint, and the combatants stood on opposite sides of the sparring circle.

Jiao Ao stood on the outside of the ring with a girl from his highest class, who would be assisting him in scoring points and judging.

"Bow to your worthy opponent." Jiao Ao took a fan from his assistant.

They did so, and immediately took a fighting stance. Jiao Ao lowered the fan.

They began circling each other in the ring, watching the other warily. Lan watched the girl's face and movements, searching for a clue to her weaknesses. Bai Sheng cracked her neck and began circling closer. Lan did not follow suit. If her opponent came to her, she would have the advantage, since defense was her greatest offense. Forward momentum could be Lan's friend. Bai Sheng drew her knife close to her body, looking for a chink in Lan's defenses.

Lan drew a deep, cleansing breath, waiting for the attack, knowing that it would come. She purposely allowed her muscles to relax, knowing that she could react when necessary.

When the girl moved, although it was fast, Lan saw it coming. Bai Sheng thrust her arm out; Lan took a small step to the side and ducked her shoulder under the girl's forearm, forcing her entire arm up. Lan's knife arm came up and encircled the girl's neck, and, with one jerk, forced the knife out of her opponent's hand, and, with a twist of her own body, forced Bai Sheng to the floor. She scored a point when the point of her own knife touched Bai Sheng's torso.

"Round to Lady Lan Chi!"

Applause and cheers came from the audience. They did not care who the winner was – they just relished a good fight.

The girl gave a grunt and came off the mat with one clean movement. "That won't happen again!" She promised as she stalked over to Jiao Ao. He appeared to counsel her as Lan re-dipped her dagger. The girl nodded darkly, and returned to her starting position.

Jiao Ao came over to Lan. "Nice job, my lady. Keep it up."

Lan bowed. "Thank you, Sir. Yes, Sir."

Lan Chi came back into the circle and she and Bai Sheng bowed to one another again. Jiao Ao lowered the fan and the second round began.

It appeared that Bai Sheng would not make the same mistake twice. She deliberately hung back, trying to force Lan to come to her.

Lan remained where she was, and they continued to circle each other.

"Are you scared, _my lady_?" Bai Sheng sneered her title.

"No. I'm just not stupid."

"Fight already!" came a voice from the crowd.

Lan ignored the heckler, but it compelled Bai Sheng into action. Instead of attacking with her knife, she swung her leg out to topple Lan. With a flash of insight, Lan grabbed the girl's foot and shoved. Bai Sheng stumbled back onto her rear end, just inside the ring. She slammed her fist on the mat, and jumped up.

"You are not going to get me again." She lunged forward and this time tackled Lan. Both girls went backwards, but Lan had readied her root, and stayed on her feet. Bai Sheng's arms were tight against Lan's sides, and Lan imprisoned her opponent's wrists with her own. Bai Sheng could not maneuver the knife, and it was trapped in a hand made increasingly lifeless by the pressure on her wrists.

Lan suddenly dropped forward, and propelled Bai Sheng backwards, releasing her. She fell to her rear end again, and Lan finished the match by following and touching her opponent's shoulder, near the neck, with the blade.

A thunderous applause went up, and Lan felt all of the tension drain from her body. She had won.

As Jiao Ao announced her as the victor, she bowed to Bai Sheng, who had scrambled to her feet. The girl reciprocated.

"I didn't know you were that good," Bai Sheng admitted.

"Thank you. It was a good fight."

"Yes, it was." She and Lan returned to the bench, and two other girls went to the mat. A bucket of water was there, and Bai Sheng offered her a ladle, which Lan accepted with gratitude.

She sat down, and glanced down at the others on the bench. Mai watched her with narrowed eyes, and Lan returned the stare.

Jiao Ao came up then, and slapped Lan Chi on the shoulder good-naturedly. "Excellent match, Lady Lan Chi!"

"Thank you, Master." Lan smiled.

He turned to Bai Sheng. "You have brought honor to our school, young lady."

"Thank you, Master."

"Rest now, both of you, and watch your comrades."

They did as he said, although Lan's mind was not really on the match. She was reliving, in her mind, the fight with Bai Sheng. She had done it. She had separated herself from her training. She did not recall, in fact, having one conscious thought during the entire match. All she had done was _feel_ – feel the movements of her opponent, and feel her own reactions as they happened.

It was an odd feeling, and one that she was not entirely sure that she trusted.

The match went all three rounds, with one of the rounds decided by strikes, and in the end, a girl in the same grade as Lan was declared the winner.

Lan Chi's second round bout was about to start, and she stretched each limb, her neck, and her back.

Her opponent in this round, Jian Dan, was a younger girl, and smaller than Lan, but she was fresh.

Once in the ring, they bowed to one another, and the fight began. Like Bai Sheng, Jian Dan was aggressive. However, unlike Bai Sheng, she was small and lithe enough to go beneath Lan Chi's defense. She got beneath Lan's arm, and Lan was forced to hop sideways and roll to the other side of the circle. She gathered herself as she jumped to her feet. That was close – too close.

Jian Dan came at her again, and Lan had to keep moving to avoid her swinging blade. Jian Dan came at her with a backhand motion, and Lan saw her chance. She grabbed Jian Dan's arm and kicked her leg out from under her. The girl went down, but dragged Lan Chi with her. Lan landed on her with a whoosh and Jian Dan's knife clattered from her hand. Lan struck against her stomach, and Jiao Ao called the round as a victory for Lan Chi.

Lan retreated to the other side of the ring, but Jian Dan did not rise, clutching her right arm. Jiao Ao rushed towards the girl. The headmistress came running over, as well as the school's nurse. They all examined Jian Dan's arm while the rest of the school looked on in concern, including Lan Chi.

At last, with a nod, Jian Dan rose, assisted by the nurse, and limped out of the ring. Everyone in the hall began clapping.

Jiao Ao made the announcement that everyone had been expecting: Jian Dan would be unable to continue, so Lan Chi was declared the winner.

The headmistress shot a baleful look at Lan Chi and stomped over to her.

"You did that on purpose!" She hissed at Lan Chi.

Lan's eyes grew wide. "No, Ma'am. I did not. It was an accident."

"Ha!" She scoffed. "Quite a convenient accident, wouldn't you say? _You've_ won the match by forfeiture."

Unseen by Lan and the headmistress, Jiao Ao had come up.

"What is this about, Headmistress?" He demanded. "Lady Lan Chi would never intentionally harm another person simply to win a match. She has no need; she is quite an extraordinary fighter." He put a hand on Lan's arm in support. "Now cease this vitriol and _get back to your seat_." He pointed at the bleachers.

The headmistress's opened her mouth and closed it several times, at a loss for words, and Lan Chi gaped at her master. The woman turned on her heel and walked back to the stands, her chin high.

"Thank you, Master, for defending me."

"You are an honorable young woman, Lady Lan Chi, even if there are others who are not quite as honorable." He turned and smiled at Lan Chi. "You're going to the final match, my lady, so go get some water and rest. We still have to determine who your opponent is."

She nodded and walked back to the bench as Mai was approaching the ring for her first match. As she passed by Lan, she dipped her shoulder and struck her. Lan staggered back a bit, then whirled to see Mai walking away, looking at her with a smile on her hated face.

Lan felt a surge of anger go through her. She hoped that Mai won this match, because she wanted to wipe that smile off her thin, weaselly face!

* * *

Lan got her wish. Mai dispatched her opponent in straight rounds, and the final showdown was set. A fifteen minute break was called so that both girls could rest, and so that their master could speak to each.

He spoke with Mai first, and Lan sat on the other side of the bench, trying not to watch them. He made some emphatic hand gestures, and Mai nodded seriously several times, and he ended by clapping her on the shoulder, as he had done so many times to Lan Chi. Lan's face fell. She had thought that was _their_ special thing.

She got up suddenly and began stretching, facing away from them, and away from the audience. She wanted to shut out all distractions – everything that would prevent her from achieving her goal. Everything that would prevent her survival.

She stilled, closed her eyes, and drew in a long breath. As she exhaled, she tried to allow the detritus of her life to be stripped away until there was just pure _awareness_ in her body, and mind. A feeling of peace washed over her, from her head to her feet, and she felt she was ready.

She opened her eyes to find Master Jiao Ao standing before her, a slight smile on his face.

"It is good for you to meditate, my lady. It clears the mind."

She nodded. "Yes. It does."

"I want you to know, Lady Lan Chi, that I consider myself the most fortunate of men to have had the privilege of instructing you." His smile became chagrined. "Although I do not know how much teaching I did. Piandao instilled much in you – he obviously recognized your greatness very early."

Lan's heart swelled. "Thank you, Master. But you have been a great teacher. And, more than that, you _saved_ my life. I was miserable here, and being in your class is the only thing that has carried me throughout the past year and a half. I am grateful for you – very grateful."

"Thank you, Child. But I apologize; this talk is supposed to be about you, not about me. I know that you have the ability to win this. You and Mai are very well-matched. However, as I have told you, she has an extraordinary ability to separate herself from her emotions. Be mindful of that. She can defeat you by getting inside your head much more than inside your physical defenses. Do not allow her to do that."

"Thank you, Sir. I will try."

He clasped both of her shoulders and squeezed lightly. "Release the greatness that Piandao saw in you, Lady Lan Chi. It will serve you well."

"Yes, Master." She nodded, and he stepped back with a final encouraging smile.

He went to confer briefly with his assistant, and took the fan from her. He indicated that both combatants should get their daggers ready, and each dipped their blades in the jar of red paint that stood nearby, careful to avoid the other.

Mai and Lan chi stepped into the circle, on opposite sides, their knives ready, their bodies prepared.

They bowed to one another, and Master Jiao Ao lowered the fan.

The fight that Lan Chi had been unconsciously preparing for since the moment that Mai had held her down in the dining room, more than two years before, began. And Lan Chi would be the victor. Of that, she was certain.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** Ooh – don't you hate cliffhangers?

I hope that you liked the competition so far – it's no pro bending, but it's the best that I could do! I know nothing about knife defense, so I watched a lot of Filipino knife videos on Youtube – I hope that I was able to do the sport justice.

The next chapter, of course, will be the showdown between Lan and Mai – to the victor belong the spoils (Zuko is a _hell_ of a trophy, I must say).


	17. Chapter 16

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just chase Sokka's boomerang if it doesn't come back.**

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******If you are going to review, please please please please don't post the result so it will be a surprise for other people! Thank you SO much! : )**

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**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes: **Here we go – the epic battle between the two girls who love Zuko!

By the way, I must apologize. I know that I said, two or three chapters ago, that there would only be four or five more chapters to go. I am revising that again, but I make no more predictions to the number of remaining chapters in part one. I am currently on chapter 19, and I know there are at least three more to go. Sorry for any inconvenience. Blame it on the fact that these characters are so fun to write for!

By the way, I hope that you like the new picture that accompanies the fic. My talented son did it, with a little hovering from me, telling him how to make the hair look pretty and fire-like. I also thank my talented stepdaughter for her cover – however, it was very detailed, and on the internet, one could not see its beauty...

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**If you are going to review, please please please please don't post the result so it will be a surprise for other people! Thank you SO much! : )**

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The warriors faced one another, ten feet separating them physically, a gulf of hostility separating them mentally. They had been destined to fight this battle, and destined to be rivals throughout their lives, their lives so different, their desires so similar. They had come to this moment as their lives intersected and overlapped, as they would again and again.

Mai, the privileged only child of a loving mother and father whose parents perhaps asked too much of their daughter; Lan Chi the only child of a mother and father taken too early, and from whom life perhaps asked too much.

They circled one another around the ring, neither willing to take the first step – neither willing to be the first to engage. Lan watched each step that Mai took, looking for some small nugget of information that might lead her to decode Mai's strategy.

_Stop it_! Lan shook herself mentally. _Do not plan – react_. _Just react_. _Let her come to you_.

Wearying of the circling, Mai made the first move. She came at Lan with her arms crossed, the blade in an icepick grip. She swung out with her knife hand, aiming for Lan's chest, but Lan, anticipating the move, leaned back far enough to allow the blade to whiz by her. Mai spun around and came at her from the other side, but Lan twisted and blocked with her free arm and flung Mai's arm away from her body.

Lan swung at her, hoping to catch Mai off-balance, but Mai blocked her and her knife arm came up in an arc. Lan turned, but Mai's blade caught the inside of her sleeve. Lan looked in bewilderment at the red mark for a moment, then, collecting herself, she dropped down and swept Mai's legs out from beneath her. Mai, realizing her danger, rolled out of the circle, and Jiao Ao stopped the round.

"One strike against Lady Mai."

Mai stood up, winded. "Time, Master."

Jiao Ao did not look pleased. "Two minutes." He held up two fingers to Mai, and turned to Lan. "Get water."

She nodded and did as he bade.

Mai walked over to Azula and Ty Lee, her knife still in her hand.

Azula looked almost concerned. "You can beat her, Mai."

Mai's eyes slid to the princess for a brief second. "I know." She turned to her other friend and held out her free hand. "Ty Lee, ribbon."

Ty Lee removed the ribbon from her braid with alacrity, and Mai, still clutching her knife, quickly plaited her own hair and secured it with the ribbon. She returned to the ring. "Thank you, Master."

Lan returned to the ring as well. She had watched Mai tie her hair up, and a small smile came to her face. She had mussed Mai's hair. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Jiao Ao lowered the fan again, and they re-commenced. Mai was on the offensive immediately, coming in with another backhanded maneuver. Lan spun her wrist around Mai's and Mai tried to slip her knife under Lan Chi's arm. Mai and Lan both leaned forward until they were grappling, each trying to plunge their daggers into the other. Their bodies were pressed together, and each of them had their free hands beneath their opponent's backs and their knife hands trapped against the other's body.

Lan thought that she felt a tug on her braid, and she reached up and grabbed Mai's braid in kind. Each pulled on the other's hair until they each started backing up in a circle in an attempt to relieve the pain.

"Time!" Jiao Ao called, and the two girls sprang apart, panting heavily.

"No hair pulling!"

Lan bent over, her hands braced on her thighs, and nodded.

"Ready?"

Both girls nodded, and returned to the circle.

Mai attacked again, and Lan Chi wondered, briefly, why the other girl was so aggressive.

As Mai approached her, Lan realized that her opponent was about to strike with another icepick grip aimed at the torso, and Lan ducked and spun to the side, her knife connecting with Mai's ribs.

"Round to Lady Lan Chi." Jiao Ao raised his fan. The crowd roared.

Mai stalked from the ring, anger written in every line of her body.

Lan Chi breathed a sigh of relief. One round down, one to go – she intended to beat Mai in straight rounds.

Both girls took some water. Lan was parched and becoming fatigued; she had never fought anyone like Mai, who was fast and accurate, which was a deadly combination.

They both stepped back into the ring.

They took their stances and stared at each other. Mai's eyes were colder than Lan had ever seen them.

Jiao Ao lowered the fan, and Mai came in immediately. She swung indiscriminately but inched closer, while Lan was brought up against the boundary lines.

In desperation, in order to prevent herself being pushed out, she blocked the outside of Mai's knife hand, and spun around her, trying to escape to the other side of the ring. Instead, Mai followed her around with her free arm and tackled Lan, and they both went skidding to the mat, Mai on top.

They landed within the lines and Mai's dagger came down towards Lan's chest. Lan, abandoning her own dagger, caught Mai's wrist with both hands.

Mai forced the blade closer and closer to Lan's breast bone until it hovered less than two inches away. Lan's years as an archer had strengthened her forearms, and she began pushing the blade away.

At that moment, Mai leaned her body closer. "I saw Zuko at the palace the other day. He has the softest lips, doesn't he?"

All of Lan's resolutions about remaining detached evaporated. With a roar of anger and jealousy, she threw Mai off and snatched her dagger from the mat. Springing to her feet, she lurched forward, swinging wildly at Mai's throat, and Mai saw her opening. She jabbed the wooden blade into Lan's stomach.

Lan staggered back, her breath stolen by the thrust, astonished by how quickly the tide had turned against her. In a fit of rage, she threw down her dagger and left the ring.

"Lady Lan Chi." Jiao Ao called her over, and she stomped over to him.

He looked her over. "Collect yourself. That was bad sportsmanship."

Lan colored, ashamed. "Yes, Sir."

"Pick up your blade and return to the bench."

"Yes, Master." She bowed, grabbed her dagger off the floor, and went over to the water bucket.

Jiao Ao announced a five minute break, and the people in the crowd, relatively quiet during this time, launched into conversations.

As Lan was drinking, Mai came and stood next to her, pointedly looking at the ladle. Lan finished drinking, and handed it to Mai.

"I know your weakness now. You're an emotional fighter." Mai dipped the ladle into the pail.

Lan's face became suffused with fury, and she had to resist the temptation to dump the water over Mai's head.

She whirled on her heel and left Mai smiling after her.

She must regain her calm or else Mai would take her easily in the next round. She had never anticipated being forced to fight a third round. She had thought that she would defeat the other girl in two rounds. This was worrisome.

She sat on the bench, placed her forearms on her thighs, and lowered her head to clear her mind. She forced the jealousy and anger back where they belonged, and reached deep within her to find that place where survival lived. It surged up inside her, and a feeling of relief came over her.

She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and stood.

The five minute rest period was just ending, and Jiao Ao beckoned her back to the circle. He handed her the dagger, newly red.

"Remember, Lady Lan Chi, in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength."

"Yes, Master. Thank you."

"You are ready?"

"Yes, Sir. I am."

He nodded firmly and went to talk to Mai. After conferring with her, he stepped out of the ring, and, nodding to them both again, lowered the fan.

Again, Mai took the initiative and came at Lan Chi. Her first swipe was wide, and Lan knocked her hand aside easily. Mai attempted to sweep her legs out, but Lan side stepped her and gave her a small shove. With her stance already too wide, Mai teetered back and fell to her rear end. Lan moved to strike, but Mai, with reflexes far faster than Lan had attributed to her, sprang up, forcing Lan Chi back. A forward thrust from Mai brought her arm close to Lan's side, and Lan grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. Mai, realizing that Lan's knife was too close for comfort, rolled into the momentum of the tug, and shot under Lan's arm.

Coming up behind Lan, she attempted to knife her in the back, but Lan did not give her the opportunity. Swinging around, she blocked Mai's thrust and brought her leg up to kick her in the back. The back of her heel connected with Mai's arm, and the younger girl staggered forward again.

With a quiet grunt, she whirled to face Lan. She began swinging again, her slashes fast and precise. Lan backed up a few steps but stopped and began blocking, her forearms coming up in a unison that stymied Mai's attacks. Mai changed her tactics and swung from the opposite direction, causing a hiccup in Lan's responses.

With a swift stroke, Mai's dagger arched towards Lan.

Lan saw it coming and without thinking, started to spring back. However, Mai, conscious of the slightest movement, sprang forward at the same time.

Lan saw the red point of the dagger sliding towards her, and felt the impact as it hit her chest. She looked down in amazement to where the smear of paint colored the area above her heart. She looked at Mai, dazed, and saw a look of wonder, and then a smile of triumphant joy, come over the other girl's face.

The room erupted in a roar so loud that Lan was surprised that the windows did not shatter. She stumbled back, and fell to her rear end. She shook her head, in shock, and staggered back to her feet.

Mai was being congratulated by Jiao Ao and the headmistress, and Lan put a hand to her buzzing head.

Master Jiao Ao left Mai and the headmistress, and came over to her with a kind smile. He bowed to her. "Lady Lan Chi, you acquitted yourself splendidly. You fought honorably and very well. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Lan gathered herself and bowed. "Thank you, Master. I must congratulate Lady Mai, it seems."

"That would be appropriate."

By this time, the students had poured out of the stands and were gathered around Mai. Lan had to shoulder her way through the crowd. Azula saw her first, and sneered.

"What are you doing here, _loser_?"

Mai gave her a dark look, and Lan Chi ignored Azula, putting herself between Mai and Azula. She bowed to Mai, who returned it. "I congratulate you, Mai. You are the – superior technician."

"If it had been archery, you would have beaten me." Mai confessed.

Lan was surprised by Mai's graciousness. A smile lifted the corner of her mouth. "Yes, I would have."

"You are a worthy opponent."

Lan was astonished. "Thank you."

Mai's eyes became hooded. "But I still hate you."

No change there. Lan smiled, a bit tightly. "Same here."

With a quick nod of acknowledgment, Mai turned back to her well-wishers, and Lan melted into the crowd.

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**Author's Note:** I hope that I did not oversell the match. It was not like it was a clash of the Titans or Aang v. Ozai, but I guess it was important to the participants. This was probably the hardest chapter to write, since it is almost all descriptive action. I watched a lot of knife fighting scenes from movies online, and tried to use the sequences that translated best to words. It is a lot harder than I would have thought!

As to the outcome of the fight, I hope that not too many of you were disappointed or experienced fatal attacks. I had never intended for Lan to be as skilled in knives as Mai, since that would be a little unimaginative. The ATLA universe already has one bada** who can kill you with a dagger – it doesn't need two. Lan has to have her own identity, and I did not want her to glom onto Mai's.

I know that this is a short chapter, and I do apologize. However, I think you will be pleased by the visitor that Lan receives in the next chapter!

**If you are going to review, please please please please don't post the result so it will be a surprise for other people! Thank you SO much! : )**


	18. Chapter 17

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just know what expunged really means...**

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**Author's Pre Chapter Notes: **Brew yourselves a cup of tea, everybody...

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It was more than thirty-two months after the news of Lu Ten's death had reached the Fire Nation capital that Iroh, Dragon of the West, great General and hero of the Fire Nation army, former heir to the throne, and the failed invader of Ba Sing Se, returned home. He refused to talk about where he had been, or what he had done. He only said that it was time for him to come back.

He arrived at his home in the palace, expecting Lan Chi to greet him with cries of welcome, as well as with hugs and kisses. All that met him, however, were some of his servants. It was not even a complete staff – most had left to find new work, believing that their employer would never return.

He heard about his niece's predicament from the housekeeper, in Hua's disapproving tone. Left unsaid was _you could have prevented it had you been here_, but Iroh understood the insinuation. Hua refused to tell him what had prompted his brother to send Lan Chi to the Academy.

"I won't tell tales," she sniffed. "If Lady Lan Chi wants to tell you, she will."

So Iroh called for his carriage and made the short trip to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. He arrived just after lunch, when the second half of the school day was just beginning. The head mistress's secretary recognized him immediately, and, after a brief moment in her superior's office, ushered him into the headmistress's private office.

The headmistress stood behind her desk, her hands folded demurely in front of her, a wide smile pasted on her face.

"General Iroh!" She said brightly. "What an honor to have you here in our humble school! What brings you to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls?"

Iroh settled himself on a chair in front of her desk and gestured for the woman to sit down. He waited for her to seat herself before speaking. "I've come to bring my niece home."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Indeed? I wasn't informed that you were taking Lady Lan Chi from us. Is the Fire Lord in agreement with this?"

"I am Lady Lan Chi's uncle and her guardian. I do not need permission from the Fire Lord to take her home."

"No, no, of course not, General. I was merely _wondering_ if the Fire Lord was aware of your intentions?"

"The Fire Lord is well aware that I would not allow my niece to stay here while I am in residence. Now fetch my niece and have her trunks brought so that we may leave immediately."

The headmistress bowed, but her stare was icy. "Very well, General."

* * *

Lan was sitting in her mathematics class, staring out the window and ignoring the teacher. She had been doing that quite a lot lately, since the battle with Mai. Although she was not _exactly _ashamed of her performance that day, thinking of it still brought a fresh wave of humiliation over her. Luckily, things were not as bad at the school as they had been for Lan. She was not certain whether the other girls had simply tired of torturing her, or if, after her defeat at Mai's hands, they had started to feel sympathy towards her. Whatever the reason, she was not sorry.

Still, school _work _held no interest for her anymore. The only thing she enjoyed was the only thing she had ever enjoyed at the school – Master Jiao Ao's Self Defense and Fighting class. Her master had given her free rein to design her own training, and she had chosen to concentrate on archery. It was very soothing to her. The familiar motions of putting arrows to the bow, sighting the target, the constant _thwack_ of the arrows hitting their mark. All of it gave her a measure of peace.

When the head mistress's secretary came in that day, Lan looked at her with apathy. The secretary whispered something in the teacher's ear, and the teacher threw a puzzled look at Lan Chi. Lan's heart began to thump in her chest.

"Lady Lan Chi. You're wanted in the office."

All eyes in the room turned to Lan. She did not blush and her face was a mask of indifference, but, inside, her pulse was racing. Why did the headmistress want her? Had she done something wrong – again? She reviewed recent events in her head, but there was nothing that she had done that would merit punishment.

She followed the secretary through the cold, silent halls, and, when the woman gestured her into the private office, Lan experienced a moment of dread. _Please don't let it be Ozai. Please, please, please, please, please_.

Then she saw him, sitting with his back to her. She would know him anywhere. He had heard the door open, and stood and turned to face her.

His hair was gray now, and there were lines on his face that had not been there before Ba Sing Se. His eyes, too, were different. Sadder, wiser, more accepting. When he saw her, he broke into a wide grin and opened his arms.

"My little duck. How glad I am to see you."

Lan burst into tears and rushed into his embrace, heedless of the secretary who looked on in astonishment.

She cried for Lu Ten and for the worry over Iroh's well-being. She cried for being abandoned, and mistreated, and she cried for her loneliness. Most of all, she cried for joy that her uncle had finally returned. For many minutes her tears flowed, and then she wiped them on her sleeve, and looked up at Iroh. "Please tell me you're taking me away from here."

"Yes." He nodded. "Let's gather your things and go home."

"That won't take long."

They left the room together, his arm around her shoulders. "You've grown so much! You're a young woman now!" It was true. When he had seen her last, she had been a child, and now she was at least five inches taller, and her body had taken on a more feminine shape.

She began to lead the way to her room. "A lot can happen in four years."

"Very true."

"Are you back for good?"

"Yes. My place is here now."

"Ozai is Fire Lord." She did not look at him.

"I know."

She stopped, then, and looked at him. "Where were you?"

"On a journey."

"You don't want to talk about it."

"I can't talk about it."

She nodded slightly, and they began walking again, and were silent until they reached her chamber. He sat down on a small stool while she began pulling things out of drawers. Her back was to him, and he noticed something.

"You cut your hair!" He marveled.

Her hair had grown since the incident with Azula, but it was still less than half as long as it had been before. "No, _I _didn't. Azula cut it." She continued to empty her drawers.

"You let _Azula_ cut your hair?"

"I didn't let her. Three of her friends held me down and she cut it off with a knife."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

She was angry suddenly. "Why does everyone feel a need to apologize for Azula, except Azula?"

He shrugged. "Because we know how horrible she can be, and we feel helpless to stop it."

She blushed at her own rudeness. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you." She tried a weak smile. "Azula's behavior is not your fault. But don't apologize for her. She did it of her own free will, and _she_ hasn't apologized. So I won't accept your apology on her behalf."

"Fair enough. I should apologize for myself, though. I'm sorry that I left you for so long."

She finally stopped packing and looked at him. "I know."

"Why did my brother exile you here?"

She turned back to her task. "You mean you didn't hear?"

"Hua refused to tell me. She said that it was your story to tell."

She turned and faced him again, her arms across her chest. "I spent the night with Zuko." Her gaze was unflinching.

He was silent for a long moment, nodding slowly, trying to digest her words, his face drained of color.

"In his bedchamber. In his bed." She continued, sparing him nothing. "And the Fire Lord found us together."

"Found you together." He repeated.

"With some help from Azula."

He nodded again. "Lan, did you have – _relations_ with Zuko?"

She looked puzzled. "What kind of relations?"

The color returned to his face and he turned a deep red. "The kind between a husband and wife."

It was her turn to blush. "Why does everyone ask that?"

"Because you are a girl and you spent the night with a _boy_ in his room. It's a natural thing to ask."

"No. I didn't." She turned back to the growing pile of belongings on top of the bureau.

"Why were you in Prince Zuko's bedchamber?"

She shrugged. "Princess Ursa had just died. I wanted to – comfort him, I guess."

"That was a very foolish thing to do."

"It didn't feel foolish at the time. It felt like the right thing to do."

He came over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "You're right. I am being hypocritical. I raised you to be a caring young woman. I cannot fault you when you show concern for another human being. And I shouldn't. It _was_ the right thing to do – it was just bad luck that you were discovered."

She leaned back against him. "Thank you, Uncle." She had been carrying that doubt, _that she had done something wrong,_ inside her for a very long time. It was a relief to know that her uncle understood.

His eye was caught by the miniatures on the bureau. "What happened to my picture?" He could see that it had been wrinkled, and smoothed out, and that there was a small hole at the top.

"A prank. Don't worry. I got even."

A low chuckle escaped him. "What did you do?"

"I shoved her into a bush. And I told her if she ever touched my things again, I would knock her teeth out."

"I'm glad all those years of training by the royal tutors did not go to waste."

"You learn to stand up for yourself very quickly at this school."

"Well, I have always wanted you to be self-sufficient."

"Then you've gotten your wish." She slammed the now empty drawer. "There, I'm done."

Iroh looked at the meager pile of underclothes, toiletries, ribbons, and her miniature portraits.

"Is that all?"

"Everything I want."

"No books?"

"No. We have books at home."

"No other clothes?"

"Oh, I almost forgot." She went to the wardrobe and pulled it open. She took out the clothing she had been wearing, almost three years before, when she had been brought to the school. The clothes she had been wearing the night she visited Zuko.

"I'll be right back." She escaped to the bathroom she shared with the other girls on her floor. Inside, she peeled off the hated uniform and donned her own clothes. The pants were much, much too short, and she had to struggle to get them over her hips. The blouse, too, was much too small, leaving her midriff bare and hugging her breasts shamefully. She surveyed herself in the mirror. Scandalous. Somehow fitting – she had come to the school the object of a scandal, and she would most probably cause a scandal when she walked out wearing these clothes. She finally donned the outer robe, and was relieved to see that it covered most of her indecency. This would do. She scooped up the uniform and went back to her room, where Iroh had carefully bundled all her belongings into a bed sheet.

He gave pause when he saw her attire, but quickly shrugged it off. "Ready to go?"

"One more thing." She gathered all of her uniforms out of the wardrobe. "Now I'm ready."

She left the room without a backwards glance, Iroh following in her wake with the rest of her possessions.

Classes had released, and there were hundreds of girls milling about on the bottom floor. Lan marched through them, head held high, as if daring them to talk to her. No one did. Iroh thought he caught a glimpse of Azula, but when he turned, she was gone.

Iroh's carriage stood in the driveway, but Lan stopped before reaching it. She dumped all of the uniforms on the brick walkway.

"Uncle Iroh, will you please do the honors?"

It took a moment for Iroh to understand her meaning. "Are you certain?"

"Quite certain. I won't be needing these again. Ever."

He chuckled and produced a flame, which he shot at the pile of clothes. They caught fire easily, and Lan watched them burn for a moment.

"Let's go. I'm sick of exile."

* * *

Once the carriage had rolled past the gates of the school, Lan felt the tension drain from her. She was free! She would never have to return to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. Never wear the uniform, or feel the eyes of her malicious classmates on her. She couldn't remember feeling such relief. She turned to her uncle, and wondered again where he had been. She was certain he would not tell her. He had made that clear. Still, she had other questions that he _might_ answer.

"Uncle Iroh, why didn't you ever tell me you wanted me to marry Zuko?"

He turned knowing eyes on her. "Hua was gossiping."

"It's not gossip if it's true. Is it true?"

He regarded her. She had changed so much since he had been gone. Not just physically, but psychologically as well. She was guarded and cynical, and there was a distance to her that had not been there before. Before she had been free with her laughter, generous with her affections, and open with her emotions. He did not know this Lan Chi, and he was sure that it would take time to understand her, and to break through the shell she had built around herself. He remembered when she had first come to him at five years of age – she had been much the same way – like a little turtle crab. It had taken the love and affection of Iroh, his wife, and Lu Ten to break down the shield she had constructed. Now, it would be up to him alone. He wondered if he was ready for the challenge.

"Yes, it's true. Had I become Fire Lord, I was going to betroth you to Zuko."

She nodded, her eyes on the hands folded in her lap. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"What for?"

"For choosing a good husband for me."

"We should discuss Zuko some more." He put his hand on hers. "But not now. There will be plenty of time to talk."

* * *

His carriage pulled up in front of the palace, but, to Lan Chi's surprise, it did not stop at the main entrance. She looked at him quizzically as they rode past it to the servants' entrance.

The carriage stopped there, and a servant opened the door and lowered the step for them to alight.

"Are we to use the servants' entrance from now on?" She asked as they approached the doors.

Iroh looked at her sideways. "Would it trouble you if we did?"

She grinned at him. "Uncle, I would be happy to enter and exit our home through a hole under the wall."

He laughed. "_I _would object to it. I would get stuck indefinitely, I think. Luckily, it is not as extreme as that." He escorted her to an ornate set of double doors on the opposite wall. It was manned by two of the Royal Guard. "This is our new entrance. It is separate from the main entrance, but it goes directly to our home."

She gave him a lopsided smile. "So there is little chance of _running_ into any member of the Royal Family."

"Precisely."

"Your brother thinks of everything."

"Yes. To the detriment of many, I think."

The doors opened, and they were ushered in. It was a long hallway, obviously newly painted.

She looked at Iroh with wide eyes. "Did he put this in since you came back?"

He chuckled. "No. Apparently, there was a _visitor_ to the palace several months ago who, how shall I put it? Put Ozai's dander up, and he decided that the family quarters deserved their own entrance."

Lan looked sheepish. "Uh, that may have been me."

He was surprised. "You'll have to tell me about that later."

"Will I?" She sounded apprehensive.

"Oh, yes." He smiled.

They reached their home soon enough, and her homecoming was joyous. Hua and Jianyu hugged her tightly and proclaimed themselves ecstatic. Iroh had been able to hire back some of his other servants, as well, and they were quite happy to see the little girl who had enlivened their house so much, although she was no longer little. Lan Chi herself was no less ecstatic, a smile not leaving her face for many hours. The few things she had brought back from the Academy were quickly settled in her old room, and she looked around it with satisfaction. She was home again!

"I think we'll have to go through your closet tomorrow," a voice from the doorway said.

"Hello, Hua. Come in. I'm sure you're right." She removed the robe to reveal the tightly fitting clothes beneath.

Hua nodded. "You _have _grown. If Prince Zuko could see you like that, I'm certain he'd want to do more than just hold your hand."

"Hua!"

She shrugged. "You're growing up, Lan. It's not hard to see. Prince Zuko is growing up. It's just natural."

Lan shook her head. "No. I'm through with Zuko. I've learned my lesson. Keep away from Fire Lord Ozai's children."

"Prince Iroh told me that Azula cut your hair."

Lan flipped the braid over her shoulder. "It's almost grown back. Good as new."

"Are you as good as new?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't know if I ever will be again. But I learned a lot there. Like how to hold a grudge. And how to bathe and wash my hair in less than five minutes. And how to sit with my back against a wall during meals."

"Things you never would have learned here."

"Right. So I'm grateful for the experience. It's made me strong. I'm ready for whatever life throws at me."

* * *

She found Iroh in his study, poring over papers on his desk, like old times. She paused in the doorway and watched him, smiling. After a short while, she pushed off the door jamb and entered.

"Some of the best memories of my life are in this room."

Iroh looked up and smiled, as well. "Mine, too."

She settled on a cushion against the wall. "Sitting in here with Lu Ten, studying. Hour after hour. I loved it. I loved it more than anything else in my life."

He nodded and looked around. "I have wonderful memories of this room, as well. Seeing the two of you here together."

They were both silent, lost in the past.

Iroh finally spoke. "Are we going to have that talk now?"

"I really don't want to." Her eyes were shuttered.

_So different now_, Iroh thought with sadness. "We will have to have it sometime."

She sighed. "If you are going to ask me a million questions about Zuko, I won't answer them. I have answered enough questions about Zuko to last a lifetime."

"Not just Zuko. Everything. We've been apart for a long time, you know."

"Believe me, I know. Will I get to ask you questions?"

"I don't see why not."

"Will you answer them?"

He hesitated. "I would like to answer them all, but no. There are some things that I cannot talk about."

She looked down at her hands. "Yes. You've said. But, if you refuse to answer questions, then so shall I."

He nodded once. "Fair enough. If you ask a question that I will not answer, then you can refuse to answer the next question."

"And you pledge that you will tell me the truth – about anything I ask?"

"Yes. I will. I am too old; there is too little time left for me to be wasting it on lies and half-truths."

"So it shall be a policy of one hundred percent honesty between us, then?"

"I think it best. After all, you're old enough for the truth, no matter how ugly. Don't you think?"

"Yes, I do."

"And you promise to always tell me the truth, as well?"

"Why not? What will lying to you ever gain me?"

He smiled. "Nothing. You already know that I love you – unconditionally – and nothing you can ever say can change that."

"Well, I feel the same."

"I'm glad."

She looked at him unblinkingly. "All right, then. Complete honesty. So, who shall ask the first question?"

He smiled. "First, I think I'd like some tea. Would you care for some?"

"If I drink tea now, I shan't be able to sleep."

The smile lifted the corner of his mouth further. "I don't think either of us will be sleeping tonight." He tugged on the bellpull that linked to the kitchen. "So, would you like to ask the first question?" He asked.

"Shouldn't it be age before beauty?"

"I am ceding to you."

"Aren't you chivalrous?"

"Is that your first question?"

"No." Hua came in at that moment.

"Ah, Hua. A pot of tea, please. And two cups. Would you like to request a special blend, Lan?"

She smiled at Hua. "Just some ginseng tea, please, Hua."

Hua nodded and was gone.

Iroh smiled. "You know ginseng is my favorite."

"Yes, I do. Of course I do. I spent four years of my life ordering your tea."

"That was one of the things that I missed while I was – gone. Your wonderful blends."

"Thank you." She was pleased.

"So back to the questions."

She shrugged. "Fine. My first question: have you seen Ozai?"

"Yes. My turn."

"What? No. That was a one-word answer." She protested.

"We set no minimum number of words for answers."

She gave him a dark look. "Fine, Old Man. Ask your question."

His eyebrows shot up. "Old man? What happened to your good manners?"

"I lost them at school. My turn."

Iroh's jaw dropped, and he chuckled. "You win this one, Little Duck."

She smiled, although it didn't reach her eyes.

Just then, Hua came back. She placed a cup before each of them and poured, then left the pot with Iroh and excused herself.

"So, my next question." Lan took a sip of tea. "Tell me what happened with Ozai. All of it. At one time. I don't want to draw everything out of you piecemeal."

"You've become very feisty."

"I've always been feisty. I just _show_ it more now."

"You certainly do." He drained his cup and poured another. "So you want to hear what happened with my brother."

"Yes."

He sighed. "Where to start? I suppose at the beginning. I arrived here at the palace, and, I can tell you, I caused _quite_ a stir. They didn't know I was in the city."

"Did you sneak in?"

Iroh smiled and gave half a shrug. "Well, not exactly. But I did, perhaps," he looked at her slyly, "have a friend _help_ me get in the city _quietly_."

"So you did sneak in."

"Some might say that. Well, anyway, that's neither here nor there. When Ozai realized I was in the palace, he _requested _my presence in the throne room. My own father's throne room." He shook his head.

"Did he have the flames on?"

Iroh looked at her sheepishly. "Not for long."

It was her turn to look surprised. "You turned the flames _off_? How on earth did you do that?"

"I learned that secret a _long_ time ago."

"Tell me how you did it!"

"It would do you no good. You aren't a firebender, after all."

She was crestfallen. "Oh." She waved a hand at him. "Go on."

"Thank you," he chuckled. "I turned the flames off, just because I could, and he became a bit –" he searched for the words.

"Hot under the collar?" She suggested mischievously.

"Ho, ho! Good one, Lan."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"Hot under the collar?" He chuckled again. "Yes, hot under the collar. _Very_ hot under the collar."

"What did he do?"

"Well, he set the Royal Guard on me –"

Lan gasped. "He did _not_!" She covered her mouth.

"Yes, indeed."

"And you dealt with them easily, I presume?"

"You know me well."

"I know that you do not suffer fools well."

"It _was_ very foolish to set the Royal Guard on me."

"Then what did he do?"

"Well, let's just say that he was ready to listen to me, then."

"Ah. And what did you say?"

"Is that another question?"

"Uncle! Do not prevaricate with me now!"

"Oh, ho! I won't, my dear! I merely said to him that I was returning home for good. I then assured him that I would not contest his right to the throne if he allowed me to return to my life."

"You'll be adviser to the Fire Lord?"

He shrugged. "As much as he'll let me advise him." Iroh looked thoughtful. "He's rather stubborn, you know."

"I do know." She said, matter of factly.

"Hmm. I wonder how you know that."

"I'm sure you'll ask. Did you tell him that you were bringing me home?"

"It is none of his concern. He is not your guardian, after all."

"That did not stop him at _all_ while you were gone." She took a sip of tea gone cold.

"Well, I am back now. I am back, and I will be here for you. And for Zuko."

She put the cup down slowly. "Zuko?"

He looked at her wisely. "Should I not be here for Zuko?"

She was flustered. "What? No! I mean, uh, yes. Of course you should be here for Zuko."

"Good, because I believe he needs me now. Ozai engaged his own firebending teacher from his youth for the poor boy! The man was a tyrant twenty-five years ago! Now he's a _cantankerous _tyrant." He waved his hand dismissively. "I had Ozai fire him."

Lan gave him a hard look. "You _told _Ozai to fire him, and he _did_?" She was incredulous.

"Yes. It may have taken a bit of _persuasion_, I admit."

"I suppose promising not to contest his reign is pretty persuasion, indeed."

"Apparently."

"Uncle?" She asked, swirling her tea in her cup. "Did you ever – suspect that Ozai would try to take the throne while you were away?"

He looked serious. "I would be lying if I said that the thought had never occurred to me."

"Did you ever think that – Azulon would choose Ozai over you?"

He shook his head. "No. I can truly say that the thought never crossed my mind."

"Do – do you think that he did?"

"Do I think that my father chose my brother over me?"

She nodded.

"If I did not, then I would be accusing Ozai of usurping the throne. And, since I have no proof of that, then I must accept what my brother tells me."

She was reluctant to broach this next subject, but felt she had no choice. "There is – something that I know, Uncle, about the night that Fire Lord Azulon died."

He took a sip of tea. "Oh, yes?"

"Something that Zuko told me. Something that Azula told him. Something that no one else knows."

"Hearsay is not the most reliable source of information, Lan Chi."

"Yes, I know," she said quickly. "And, I will not tell tales. I just think that – perhaps you should ask Zuko about it."

He saw that it was very important to her, and he nodded. "Perhaps I shall." He smiled. "Now, enough about Ozai. It's my turn to ask questions."

She sighed. "Fine. Go ahead." She expected him to ask for a detailed explanation about her antics with Zuko.

"Tell me what happened with Ozai." He deliberately echoed her words from earlier.

"I thought you said _enough about Ozai_?"

"Ah. What I _should _have said is _enough questions about Ozai from you_. _I_ have not asked any questions about him. So, tell me _your _tale of Ozai."

She colored and looked into her cup. "It's not a happy one."

"Little that involves my brother is happy. Would you like more tea?"

"Yes, please." She came across the room with her cup, and he poured her another. She settled down on the cushion next to him, and he put his arm around her. She allowed it to remain, and then, leaning against him, she told him everything, both meetings with Ozai, and what led her to them. When she had finished, he was silent for a long moment.

"I had no idea that you had fallen in love with Zuko." Concern etched his face.

She sighed. "It doesn't matter. Ozai as good as told me that he'd rather see me dead – happily – than married to Zuko."

Iroh sighed. "That sounds like my brother. Did he threaten you?"

"He said that, if I continued to be an issue, then – I wouldn't be an issue anymore."

Iroh set his jaw. "That is unacceptable."

She knew that tone. She sat up and looked at him intently. "You must not say anything to him, or pursue this, Uncle. You know how dangerous he is!"

"Should I be scared of my baby brother?"

"Please, Uncle, please! Do _not_ pursue this. I beg you!"

"You needn't be worried, Little Duck."

"But I am! I am! Promise me – _please _promise me that you will say nothing to him. If you do, I shall – I shall run away! And I can do it – you'll never find me!"

He was taken aback by her vehemence. "So you'll just give up Zuko, because Ozai says so?"

"Yes, I would."

"Just to protect me?"

"It's not for you. You don't need my protection. I do need yours, though." It was a little bit of a lie, to preserve his ego. She knew that she would let Zuko go to save Iroh, if it came down to that. A sacrifice of her happiness was nothing compared to ensuring Iroh's safety.

"We shall protect each other, then."

"Good. Because I could not bear to lose you again." She impulsively threw her arms around him.

He stroked her hair soothingly. "You will not, Duck. I promise you that you cannot rid yourself of me so easily."

* * *

They continued to talk throughout the night, Lan sharing much of her time at school, and Iroh sharing some of his travels through the Earth Kingdom. They talked about Lu Ten for a long while, and Lan asked the question that she had been scared to ask even herself in the long months since his death.

"Uncle, you promised to be honest with me."

He nodded. "Yes, I did."

"So, tell me, please, about Lu Ten."

"We have been talking about him for the past half hour."

"I – I need to know, Uncle, about how – he died."

Pain undimmed by the passage of time showed in Iroh's eyes. "What do you want to know?"

Tears came to her eyes. "Did – did he – suffer?" She continued on. "Because I – I could not bear it, if he did." The floodgates on the emotions she had kept bottled for so long opened, and her next words came very quickly, without thought, without censorship. "Although, there is nothing that I could do to change it, of course, and, of course, I know that you do not want to talk about it, and I do not _want_ to know, not really, and you said that you would always tell me the truth, and I know that I said that I _wanted_ that, but I do not know if I want the truth, because I – I really cannot bear the thought that he – he felt – any pain." The tears ran freely down her face throughout her rambling speech.

"Oh, my darling little duck." He enfolded her in his arms, and held her as she sobbed. "He did not, dearest. It was over in an instant. He was – at peace." And that, at least, was the truth.

"Oh, Uncle, I miss him so much! Every day! Every day I wake up and wish that his death was all a horrible, horrible nightmare. More than anything else that has happened in my life, more than _anything_, I wish that undone."

"I know."

"I would give up my life – gladly – if it meant that he were here."

"Don't say that. You still have so much life to live."

"I don't care. I loved him more than I ever loved anyone else. More than even you, Uncle."

"I know. And we are all we have, Duck, and it is left to us – to mourn, Lan Chi. It is left to us to go on. And we must."

* * *

**Author's Note: **FINALLY, the prodigal uncle returns! I know a lot of you have been hankering for a little bit o' Iroh, so I am happy to deliver. Many of you have mentioned how much you like Iroh, and I, too, am a HUGE fan of his. In fact, he is one of my favorite characters to write for, because he dares to say anything, and he usually gets away with it! He is also, often, the moral compass, the character upon whom the others judge themselves. Of, course, he is also "his royal tea loving kookiness," and you've got to love that!

I really love writing dialogue for him, because I love the cadence of his speech, and the general formality of his speech patterns. His speech is very lyrical, and it is kind of a fun dance to try to figure out how he would say things.

What would Iroh do? There's another slogan for a bracelet! WWID!

I lost it when writing about Lu Ten, again, and was blubbering all over my keyboard. I feel the pain of his loss so much – perhaps a little too much for a fictional character, but I can't help it. Lu Ten was the brother I always wanted (the brother I have is NO Lu Ten, I'll tell you!).

Now, for upcoming chapters, we will get to see Lan Chi back at her beloved home, with MANY MORE chances for her to run into the best looking boy (nearly a man) in the Fire Nation. I also have a little conflab planned between our favorite bending brothers, Iroh and Ozai. For those who watched ATLA, you will know that we never saw the two brothers together, so this is a first! I hope that I am able to pull it off with conviction!

So, hold onto your hats and fasten your seatbelts, because it is going to get bumpy from here on out!


	19. Chapter 18

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN **_**NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER**_** OR ITS CHARACTERS. **** I just buy cat food for Miyuki...**

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes:** Thanks for all of the nice reviews. I am glad that so many of you are so invested in the story. It makes me a better writer, since I am trying to make my writing worthy of your reading. Wow. That sounds really needy, doesn't it?

By the way, despite the fact that I _vowed_ to only post Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I have decided to post this on a Sunday, with an intention to post another tomorrow. I may skip Wednesday, then, since it appears not a lot of people read on Wednesdays. Or, should I be more successful in pushing the story along, I will post on Wednesday anyway, and damn the consequences! ; )

* * *

Iroh had pledged to be completely honest with Lan Chi, that was true. However, he did not say that he would tell her _everything_. He told her that he had gone to see Ozai. That was true. He told her that he had spoken to Ozai about the throne. That was true. He told her that he had spoken to Ozai about Zuko. That was true.

She had asked whether he had talked to Ozai about bringing her home. He had told her, simply, that it was none of Ozai's business; Ozai was not her guardian, after all. That was true. It was, however, not the _complete _truth.

The interview with Ozai had started inauspiciously. Iroh told Lan that, and that, too, was true. There had been the matter of being _summoned _to the throne room that had angered Iroh. And, then, of course, there was the matter of the Royal Guard attacking Iroh as he paid his respects to his brother.

Iroh had walked into the throne room slowly, his shrewd eyes seeing much more than most would have seen. The abnormally large number of Royal Guard, excessive even for his paranoid brother, alerted Iroh to a situation that might bode ill. When the doors closed behind him, and he heard footsteps behind him, he began going through, in his mind's eye, the position of each of the guards whose footsteps he heard, as well as the positions of the guards who remained at attention.

He made his obeisance in front of the flaming throne, as any good Fire Nation citizen should. However, he could not see his brother, so high were the flames, so Iroh, who knew that the secret to the flames was to extinguish the jet at the far right of the sequence, and thus extinguish them all, did just that.

With a slight flick of the wrist, a movement he had learned from observing waterbenders, the entire string of flames died in succession. With a grunt of annoyance, Ozai re-lit the strand with an exaggerated motion. Again, Iroh extinguished the flames.

"What trickery is this, _Brother_?" Ozai sneered, again re-igniting the fires.

It took only a finger movement to put them out again.

Ozai gave a nod to one of his guards, and, although Iroh did not see it, he did hear the sudden shuffle of feet behind him.

From a prone position, Iroh was still able to extend his leg and shoot a flame, of a size larger than a man, back at his attackers. Once on his feet, it was really little trouble to subdue the rest, although the last two guards actually just threw themselves to the floor.

Iroh smoothed his hair back, and greeted his Fire Lord was a flourish. "It is good to see you, too, Brother."

Ozai's face was mottled with rage. "I – I ought to..." he sputtered, unable to speak full sentences.

"What, Brother? There is nothing you can do to hurt me, at this point. That should be obvious to you. Have you more guards? You may send them in, but it will do no good." He retied his belt, which had come loose. "You can try lightning, of course, but you know I can redirect it. Besides, killing me will only inflame those who thought I should be on the throne in the first place. You do not want a _civil_ war on your hands as well as a _world_ war, do you?"

Ozai's mouth was set in an ugly line. "Why have you returned, Iroh?"

Iroh shrugged. "This is my home."

"A home you have not seen for four years."

"It was high time I came back."

"You do not fool me. You have come to claim the throne."

Iroh came up the stairs of the dais. "I have no desire for the throne, Ozai. I wish you joy in it."

Ozai's eyes narrowed. "Then why return?"

"To claim what is _mine_."

"Which is?"

"My rightful place."

"Your _rightful_ place?" His voice was mocking.

"I have a home here. I have a daughter here. I want them both back."

"Ha! Your _daughter_, the Water Tribe whore?"

Iroh had come up to the throne, and he now leaned over Ozai intimidatingly. "I have told you before, Ozai, that I will not tolerate disrespect towards her."

"And what will you do, _Brother_?" The word was said like a curse.

"There is _so much _that I can do." He turned and walked back down the stairs. "You know, Ozai, when I heard that Father left the throne to you, I confess, I was surprised."

"Why should you be? Your line is _extinct_. Did you think Father would hand the throne to a man without issue?"

"It is true, that I no longer have a – son." Iroh's voice broke, but he continued. "However, many years ago – when Lan Chi came to live with us, in fact, I amended my will. In the event that Lu Ten preceded me," he hesitated only a second, "in death, I designated Zuko heir to the throne, with the bulk of my estate to go to Lan Chi, of course." Iroh stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Father knew about that. Indeed, his seal, and his mark, are on the document. He knew that, after me, Zuko would be Fire Lord."

Ozai was dangerously silent, his fingers gripping the arms of his throne tightly.

"Strange, wouldn't you say, that he would replace _me_ in the succession with _you,_ when our heirs were one and the same person?"

"He was angry with you," Ozai said, through gritted teeth. "After you failed at Ba Sing Se and fled in a panic."

Iroh shrugged. "That could very well be true. I will give you that, Ozai. But, I have been a hero of the Fire Nation for almost longer than _you_ have been alive. You, on the other hand, have only distinguished yourself for conducting a _failed_ search for the avatar."

"Hold your tongue, Old Man."

Iroh smiled wolfishly. "Oh, I can, Ozai. With appropriate incentive."

"Now we come to it." Ozai said, smugly. "What exactly do you want?"

Iroh shrugged. "Very little, really. My home. My child. And Zuko."

"What?" Ozai's voice was a slightly higher pitch than he would have liked.

"I intend to take over the matter of Prince Zuko's education."

"Why?"

"Let's just say that I reached enlightenment on my travels, and I would like to share it, with him."

"And if I say no?"

"You won't. The alternative is a protracted, bloody battle for the throne, which you have little chance of winning."

"That is _all _you want?"

"Oh, there are a few more things. Silly of me to forget them. I want to be re-instated as chief war minister. No decisions are to be made about the war, without consulting me first. I want all of my funds released, and the funds you pilfered, returned. I also want you to schedule the reading of Father's will. I do appreciate you putting it into abeyance while I was – away, but I am home now. And I will want everything he left me. _Everything_."

So angry was Ozai that small flames licked from his fingers. "Is _that _it?"

Iroh looked thoughtful for a moment. "I believe so."

Ozai stood for the first time, and began to walk down the stairs. "Fine." He bit out. "I have a condition of my own." He stopped barely an inch from his brother, and, because of his superior height, he towered over him. Iroh, however, was not intimidated, although he decided to listen to his brother's request.

"That _girl_," Ozai began, "that Water Tribe – " he changed the word at the last moment. "_Child_. Keep her away from my son. If I hear any rumors," he poked Iroh in the chest, "anything at all, to suggest that _you_ are trying to make a match between her and Zuko, then all deals are off. Do you understand?"

It seemed a small enough concession, although, of course, Iroh did not know the ramifications to those directly involved. "You have my word."

Ozai turned on his heel and ascended the stairs back to the dais, although he was not quite quick enough to avoid his brother's lighting of the flames behind him.

The acrid smell of singed hair accompanied a smiling Iroh out of the throne room.

* * *

Ozai could not remember ever being angrier. How dare his brother come into _his _throne room and _threaten _him? He was Fire Lord now, not Iroh! The old man would do well to remember that!

"Feng!" His shout carried to the dressing room off the throne room, where his secretary kept all things that the Fire Lord might need while receiving.

The young man came running, and threw himself onto the floor in submission.

"Up." Ozai said, and Feng scrambled to his feet.

"How may I serve you, my lord?"

"You have not recovered my father's will." It was a statement that Feng agreed with quickly.

"No, my lord. As you know, it was not amongst the Fire Lord's personal papers and we still have had no success in finding it."

"His secretary still claims no knowledge?"

"No, my lord. He is – old – and was old even then, Sire. He clings to the claim that your father took it from him after the death of Prince Lu Ten."

"But where did he put it?" The Fire Lord was speaking more to himself than to his assistant. "Search the Dragonbone Catacombs again."

"Yes, my lord."

Ozai gave a grunt of annoyance. "And bring the High Sage to me immediately."

* * *

The High Sage was concerned. It was unusual for the Fire Lord to summon him so late. He entered the throne room on silent feet and bowed down before his master, noting that the flames before the throne were high and angry.

The fire Lord wasted no words. "My brother has returned."

The High Sage felt his pulse jump, but remained silent.

"He wants my father's will read."

The sage still said nothing.

"You are certain that the document does not exist?"

The sage finally spoke. "We have searched for it dozens of time, Sire. We have found no evidence that Fire Lord Azulon's will still survives."

"If it exists, I want it. Under no circumstances should my brother acquire it."

"No, My Lord."

"Do not fail me in this."

"No, Sire."

* * *

Lan Chi woke up after the first night in her home happier than she had been for over four years. The sun was shining, and there was, in the wind, the slight bite of autumn. Although the Fire Nation was an equatorial country, even it could experience cold snaps.

Lan, who had slept with her window open, relished the sting of the cool air on her face and her uncovered toes. It was delightful, and she threw the remainder of her covers back and stretched languorously. The feeling was positively hedonistic, and she wanted to lie there all day. However, it was her first day home, and she wanted to explore everything even more than she wanted to stay abed. She wanted to re-acquaint herself with every corner of every room, and every paving stone in the courtyard. She wanted to splash in the fountain in her bare feet, and she wanted to climb the cherry tree.

Her stomach growled. But first of all, she wanted breakfast. She jumped up and took care of her ablutions and chose the best-fitting clothes in her closet, which turned out to be a set of sparring clothes that had been purchased too large for her. Now, the pants were about two inches too short, and the top two sizes too small, but at least she was mostly covered.

She ran down the stairs two at a time and into the kitchen, where Hua and the cook were arguing about how much honey to dribble in her rice bowl. She kissed them both on the cheeks, grabbed the bowl, and began eating it on the way to the dining room. Uncle Iroh was at the table, a pile of papers before him. She kissed him with lips sticky from honey, and dropped down across from him.

He smiled at her. "My, you are in a good mood this morning, my dear."

Lan shoveled some rice into her mouth. "Why not?" She asked around wads of her breakfast. "It's a beautiful, _cold _day. I never have to go back to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, and this rice is _delicious_! How did Cook get it so _tasty_?"

Iroh was reading one of the parchments. "Perhaps it tastes sweeter because you are eating it at home."

"Very wise, Uncle."

He looked up and chuckled. "I thought so." He put the papers down, and folded his hands on the table. "So, young lady, what would you like to do today?"

She leaned back and unfolded one of her legs to extend it above the table. "New clothes. These are the largest in my closet. And they are _nearly_ indecent."

"I see what you mean. Yes, first thing, then, new clothes. I have a few hours this morning, but this afternoon I have a cabinet meeting, and then, I am committed to Zuko."

She stopped chewing. "What are you doing with Zuko?"

"I told you - firebending. I am still searching for a swordmaster for him, since Master Piandao has retired to the islands."

Lan pointed her chopsticks at her uncle. "Jiao Ao." She said, although, with a mouthful of rice, it sounded more like _jow yow_.

"May you live a hundred years." Iroh smiled mischievously as he poured himself a cup of tea.

She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and swallowed the bite she was eating. "I didn't sneeze! I meant Jiao Ao, my master at school. He is an _excellent_ teacher, Uncle."

He looked speculative. "Really? Perhaps I will pay him a visit – or ask him to come here."

She put another mouthful of rice in her mouth. "Asb hib to cub here. He dubn't ge out mup," she said, which translated to _ask him to come here; he doesn't get out much_.

Iroh looked dismayed . "You really did lose your manners at school."

She gave an embarrassed half-smile. "Sobby."

He drained his tea cup and stood. "Choke down the rest of your rice, my dear, and let's go. You know how I love shopping!"

* * *

Iroh was not lying when he said that he loved shopping. He was a shrewd bargainer, and as Lan Chi noted after he had purchased a brass dinner bell and a golden monkey statue, a "sucker for shiny objects."

However, he also had a fine eye for the fabric and cut of women's clothing. He had rarely participated in the purchase of Lan Chi's clothing before now, though, since her clothes had usually been the functional sort worn by children. Now, however, since she was growing up, he thought that she should have a more appropriate wardrobe, and that he should help choose it, since Lan Chi had no one with a discerning eye to assist her.

They entered the clothing shop at the open market that Su Hsing patronized during her life, and the seamstresses there were overjoyed to see Iroh and Lan Chi. They cooed and fussed over Iroh and settled him on a cushion with a pot of their finest jasmine tea. Lan Chi had often accompanied her aunt on shopping excursions, and the ladies now exclaimed over her growth and her burgeoning beauty.

"Fan, just look at her features," said one seamstress to the other.

"Oh, yes! And look at her cheekbones! Exquisite," Tong, the other seamstress, smiled.

"And the hair!" Fan picked up her braid, trying not to look repulsed by the color. "She has quite grown into it. Hasn't she, Tong?"

"Oh, yes. She _really_ has. It's not as – jarring as it used to be." She gave Lan a look of earnest concern. "Not at all, my lady."

"Oh, but the _freckles_." Fan turned Lan's face from one side to another. "Urine of a pregnant cow-hippo should fade those. Have we any, Tong?"

Lan passed a look of horror onto Iroh.

"I believe she is allergic to cow-hippo urine, unfortunately," Iroh said between sips of tea.

Fan's shoulders drooped in disappointment. "Ah, well, can't be helped, then. Let's see how she's grown. Well, _really_, I can see how she's grown." She tsked-tsked over the ill-fitting clothing, and whipped out a tape measure.

She measured legs and arms and other body parts, and barked out numbers, which Tong copied down assiduously.

"Are those with or without breast bindings?" Tong asked after Fan called out Lan's bust size.

Fan gave Lan's breast an experimental squeeze. "With."

Lan gave a squeal at the invasive grope.

"Well, you'll have to take them off so we can get an _accurate_ number." Tong said over the tops of her sewing glasses.

"Of course." Fan started to strip off Lan's clothes.

"In the dressing room!" Iroh called out, his eyes closed.

Fan blushed, although her color was not nearly as red as Lan Chi's. "Of course. Of course. Come."

She dragged Lan into a curtained closet and efficiently pulled off all of all the girl's clothing, save for her knickers. Lan attempted to cover her nakedness with her hands, but Fan slapped her wrists away. The very cold tape measure was put around Lan's bust area, which caused the girl to jump, and numbers were yelled out to the other seamstress.

After hanging the tape measure around her neck, Fan produced a soft robe for Lan to don and escorted her client back out to the showroom.

Tong had managed to find a plate of almond cookies for Iroh, who sat happily eating and drinking. Lan reached for a cookie, but Fan slapped her wrist again and made a disapproving sound. "We are shopping, not snacking."

Lan stuck her tongue out at the woman when she turned her back, and Iroh patted the cushion next to him.  
"They are going to bring out some fabric for us to choose from now. Here, have a cookie."

Lan smiled and shoved the entire cookie into her mouth, lest Fan turn around. She muttered her thanks to Iroh, and smiled as the two women came back with arm loads of fabric – red fabric. There were fabrics in every shade of red – carmine, crimson, scarlet, magenta, vermilion, burgundy, pink, coral, wine, rose, ruby, and a few more Lan could not name. They were all laid out, side by side, all across the shop. A sea of undulating red.

"What a wonderful selection!" Iroh exclaimed, although his eyes slid sideways to gauge Lan's reaction. Upon seeing her disappointment, he smiled at the two women. "Have you any other colors?"

Fan looked thoughtful. "Well, I do believe we have some _raspberry_ in the back."

"And maroon. I think we have some maroon," Tong interjected.

"Oh, wonderful! But have you any – _other_ color? Green, perhaps, or blue? Or some sunny yellow?"

The women looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head. "Other – other colors?" Fan asked.

"Besides red?" It was Tong's turn.

"Yes." Iroh turned to Lan. "I think, with her coloring, that she would look _stunning_ in a nice moss green, with jade green trim."

Both women put one hand on her hip and the other on her chin, in matching poses, and studied Lan thoughtfully.

"Hmm, I suppose," began Fan.

Tong's face brightened. "Oh, yes!" She clapped her hands. "Oh, yes, Fan! I can see it! And a pretty, buttery yellow, edged with –" She trailed off, thinking.

The women spoke at the same time. "Maroon!" They gave small squeaks of pleasure and ran off into their storeroom.

Lan gave Iroh's arm a grateful squeeze. "Thank you, Uncle. It's not that I don't _like_ red – I do! I love it, it's just that –"

"That it gets a bit boring." He supplied with a pat on her hand. "I understand. And there are so many other, beautiful colors in the world."

Lan nodded and laid her head against his shoulder. "Yes. That's it, exactly."

So, in the end, after being poked and prodded and turned this way and pivoted that way, and having dozens of fabrics of varying colors draped over her, Lan Chi and her uncle left the shop. An entirely new wardrobe had been purchased for Lan Chi in all the colors that the seamstress sisters had in stock, with promises from Fan and Tong that more would be ordered. They were also able to quickly cobble together an outfit for her to wear home, and told Lan that some other simple pieces would be delivered to her the next morning.

When they returned to the palace, Iroh rushed off to his meeting, and Lan Chi decided to practice her forms in the courtyard. She spent a few minutes warming up, and then ran through all of the advanced drills. After about a half hour of training, Hua came out with some tea and cookies.

"Time for a break, my lady." She put the tray down on a small table.

Lan dropped her arms and grinned. "Thanks, Hua. That is very thoughtful of you. But you didn't have to do that. I could have come into the kitchen. You needn't spoil me."

"I think that you could use a little spoiling."

"Thank you." She sank down on the small stool set next to the table, and surveyed the courtyard. Everything was the same – even her old swing, still on the cherry tree. Just then, she noticed a long scorch mark on the side of the building. She squinted at it. It was _definitely_ the mark of fire.

"Hua, what's that?" Hua, who had not yet gone, followed Lan's pointed finger.

Hua's face darkened. "Fire Lord Ozai had the wisteria removed a few months ago."

Lan's jaw dropped. She had not realized it, but she had been staring at the outside wall of her bedroom. The burn marks extended from the ground, and snaked all the way up to her window. The wisteria, which had held so many beautiful, fragrant blooms, and which she and Zuko had used to climb into her window, was gone.

Hua looked thoughtfully at the marks. "It had to go. He said that it was diseased."

* * *

Iroh's first task, upon returning to the palace, had been to see his brother. His second task had been bringing Lan Chi home. His third task was to see Zuko.

So, after having left Lan Chi at home, and after having been re-introduced as Ozai's War Minister to the rest of the stunned cabinet members, he sought out his nephew. He searched in the courtyard, where he knew that Zuko took his training, but the boy was not there. Iroh thought to check Zuko's bedroom next.

He knocked, and heard his nephew's voice calling to enter.

Zuko was laying on his bed, reading, but did not look from the pages, so Iroh was given a chance to observe him.

He had grown so much. He was taller, much taller than he had been, although not as tall as Iroh himself. He had that look that many adolescent boys had – a sort of awkwardness that made the limbs seem as if they did not correspond to the body. Despite this, he was quite a handsome young man – and, although superficially, he resembled Ozai, Iroh could see, in the slight softness of his features, shades of Ursa.

"Interesting book, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko shot upright, abandoning his book. A look of joy came over his face, and he hopped off the bed, rushed across the room, and embraced his uncle tightly. "Uncle! You've finally come back!"

Iroh grunted, and Zuko released him with an embarrassed "sorry."

"Quite all right, my boy. You needn't apologize for your strength." He held him at arm's length, and looked him over. "You're almost a man, Nephew. When last I saw you, you were this high." He held his hand about two feet off the ground.

Zuko laughed. "You have not been gone that long, Uncle."

"It seems that I have been gone that long."

Zuko's smile disappeared. "I am sorry about Lu Ten, Uncle. I was very sad when I heard."

Iroh clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you, my boy. I am sorry for the loss of your mother. To lose a mother so young is very, very difficult."

"Yes, Sir. It is."

They looked at each other for a long moment, until Iroh spoke. "We both of us have lost someone important, Zuko. We should help each other heal."

Zuko gave him a slight smile. "I would like that." He remembered his manners then. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Yes, that would be nice." They walked to a low sofa, and Iroh sat down on it heavily.

"How long have you been back?" Zuko settled across from him, on the floor.

"I arrived yesterday morning."

Another thought came to Zuko suddenly. "Lan! Have you been to see her?"

Iroh smiled knowingly. "Lan?"

Zuko colored again. "I mean _Lady _Lan Chi. Does she know?"

He nodded. "I brought her home yesterday."

A wide grin, troubling to Iroh, spread over Zuko's face. "She's _here_?"

"Yes, indeed."

Zuko looked past his uncle's shoulder, his face delighted. Lan was back! She was back! He would be able to see her again!

Iroh frowned at the dreamy look on his nephew's face. It seemed that Lan's affection for Prince Zuko was not one-sided. He decided to ignore that issue for the current time.

"Well, Prince Zuko, I confess that I am surprised to find you in your chamber at this time of the day."

Zuko's face fell. "Father has dismissed my masters, so I have nothing to do."

Iroh's face expressed surprise. "Really? Were you so fond of your masters, then?"

"Not really. But, now, I have no one to train me. I have nothing to do." He repeated.

"Hmm. Are there no other diversions in the palace?"

"I have been reading today. And, I suppose that I could ride."

"Can you not practice your forms, as well?"

He lowered his eyes. "Yes, Uncle. I shall do so."

"Good. Good. Then we shall start tomorrow."

Zuko's head snapped up. "What do you mean, Uncle?"

"Your father dismissed your masters on my request, Zuko. I will be overseeing your education from now on."

A smile split the young man's face and he jumped up and bowed. "Uncle! That is wonderful news! Thank you! Will you teach me _Breath of the __Dragon_?"

Iroh chuckled. "Perhaps not just yet. I will have to evaluate you, of course, and I intend to hire a new swordmaster for you."

"When can we start?" He went running to his bureau and began rummaging for sparring clothes.

"Tomorrow, Zuko."

"What? Oh, yes. You said. Well, that's all right. I will just go –" He pulled his shoulder armor off over his head, "and practice for a little while."

Iroh lifted himself from the sofa with a grunt. "That's a good idea, Prince Zuko. I will see you tomorrow, an hour after sunrise. What time do you awaken?"

Zuko stopped undressing to grin at him. "I rise with the sun, Uncle."

Iroh smiled fondly. "A true son of Fire."

"Yes, Sir." He ran over and gave Iroh a quick hug. "I'm truly glad that you are safe, and home, Uncle. I was really very worried."

"Thank you, Nephew."

"We will talk about all of your travels, won't we? I'm sure it was all very exciting!" He jumped around as he pulled off his military boots.

"Very exciting. I will leave you now to your work."

"Thank you, Uncle. Thank you so much!"

Iroh smiled at Zuko's enthusiasm, and left his nephew to his task.

As he closed his door behind him, a girl's voice hailed him from down the hall. "Well, well, Uncle. I heard you were back. Been to see Zu-Zu already? You work fast."

Azula stopped in front of him, a hand slung insolently on her hip. Her mentors, Li and Lo, walking in unison behind her, stopped in unison, as well.

Iroh stiffened, but attempted a smile. "Hello, Azula. You've grown."

She gave him a look of derision. "Of course I've grown. It's been four years. I'm not _stunted_, you know."

_I wouldn't say that_, Iroh thought, unkindly. "Of course."

"I understand that you have withdrawn Lan Chi from the Royal Fire Academy for Girls."

"Yes, indeed. Lan is back at the palace, where she belongs."

"Oh, I wouldn't say _that_, Uncle. It's true that she _did not_ fit in at the Academy, but I doubt she belongs _here_. I think, perhaps, that there is _nowhere_ in the Fire Nation that she _truly_ belongs."

Iroh's smile tightened. "Her place is with me, and my place is here."

"It _is_ kind of Father to allow you both to stay here."

Iroh grasped Azula by the chin and smiled into her eyes warningly. "No, Azula. It is kind of _me_ to allow your father to stay here."

Anger, and something that Iroh could not define, blazed in her eyes, and she ripped her chin from his fingers.

With her hands fisted by her side, she stalked off.

Iroh watched her go, and turned back to find Li and Lo staring at him unblinkingly.

The sisters, who had been overseeing Azula's education since she was quite young, were contemporaries and cousins of Azulon, and had, indeed, been responsible for Ozai's naming of his daughter after the Fire Lord. It was said that the twins, renowned as great beauties in their youth, had both been in love with Azulon, but, due to the laws of consanguinity, no romantic attachments had ever formed between either girl and the future Fire Lord. However, neither girl had ever been interested in any other men, and had pledged to devote their lives to Azulon in any manner that they could. Throughout the years, they had been confidantes to the queen and had become renowned for their wisdom and their skill as twin oracles.

"The Dragon of the West has returned." This came from Li. Or perhaps it was Lo. Iroh could never tell them apart.

"Your return was foretold." Both sisters had their hands folded into their sleeves.

Iroh looked skeptical. He had seen much recently that told him that the twins' skills were spurious, at best. "It was not foretold to the Fire Lord, I think, ladies."

They both smiled secretively. "We keep our own counsel when the spirits demand it." One of them said.

Iroh gave a nod of acknowledgment – he did not believe they had any real power. He bowed to them, and turned to go.

"Your tenure here shall be short, great dragon."

He stopped on his heel and faced them. He could not tell if they were threatening him.

"Your time here will be marked by great tragedy."

"A tragedy that only you can prevent."

"If your wisdom is great enough."

"And your resolve powerful enough."

"Many lives will be altered by your actions."

"And two destroyed, if your decision is the wrong one."

"It is within your power to avert great misfortune."

"For yourself and others."

Throughout this, Iroh was frozen to the spot, held in thrall by their even tones and their prophetic words. A chill ran over him as he listened, and his throat ran suddenly dry. His breathing became shallow, and his fists clenched spasmodically.

Just then, Zuko shot out of his room and nearly tripped over Iroh.

"Oh, Uncle. I beg your pardon. I did not see you." He saw Li and Lo, smiled, bowed, and ran off.

The two women watched Prince Zuko go, turned to Iroh, bowed together, and were gone, leaving the general behind, his entire body shaking.

* * *

**Author's Note:**I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. A little bit of shopping fluffiness, a reunion or three, and a prophecy from the two creepiest old ladies in the Fire Nation.

I hope that you enjoyed the Iroh/Ozai reunion. I hope that I did not make Iroh too much of a bada**. I wanted to make it clear that, had he so desired, he could have taken the throne back from Ozai. It always troubled me that Iroh came back after his self-imposed exile and so meekly ceded all his power to his brother. I know that he probably did not care about being Fire Lord anymore, but he must have known that the Fire Nation would have been better off under him rather than under Ozai – so this is my explanation.

I enjoyed bringing Azula back for one scene – she has really appeared very little, but she always makes an impact with few words. It's her gift. Like being a people person.


	20. Chapter 19

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I am just the keeper of the Crown Prince's headdress from the "Avatar and the Firelord" - since it seems to disappear at the end of that episode...**

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Note: **I got nothing. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

So, as Lan Chi had suggested, Iroh brought Jiao Ao to the palace to be interviewed as a possible swordmaster and martial arts teacher. His job would be to continue where Zuko's old teachers had left off, and to further hone the young prince's sword and hand-to-hand combat skills.

After an exhaustive conversation with Jiao Ao on the theory of the nature of combat, and after having satisfied himself that Jiao Ao possessed none of the sadism that seemed to have been a hallmark of all of Ozai's teachers, Iroh had pronounced himself delighted with Jiao Ao, and the man had been duly hired.

One bonus of having Jiao Ao at the palace was that, along with training Zuko, Jiao Ao would also be able to work with Lan Chi. He was also able to remain on the faculty of the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, on a limited basis, and thus not deprive the youth of the Fire Nation an excellent teacher.

On the first day that Jiao Ao began his tenure at the palace, Lan Chi greeted him in the courtyard of her home with great enthusiasm and a warm hug.

"It is wonderful to see you again, Master!" She smiled and released him.

"Thank you, Lady Lan Chi. I, too, am very pleased that you will continue to be my student."

"And you will be working with Prince Zuko, too."

"Yes. I look forward to that. General Iroh says that he is already quite proficient with the dao swords."

"You'll finally have someone to teach that to!" She was excited for him.

"Yes, indeed. Are you familiar with his abilities?"

Lan colored, and averted her eyes. "I saw him use them only once, and it was many years ago."

"Hmm. Well, I will be able to judge for myself in a few hours."

"Oh, are you starting with him today?"

"Yes. But enough about the prince. Have you been practicing?" He indicated the weapons, lined up lovingly against one of the walls.

"Yes, Master. I have more free time, now, since I do not have to take calligraphy and, you know," she waved her hand, "all those other, unimportant subjects."

"Like math?"

"Yes. What? No! Not like math. Well, perhaps. All right. Like math." She gave an embarrassed smile.

"Your uncle said that you were not overly fond of math."

"He's right. I prefer history. And literature. Much more interesting."

"We are all entitled to our preferences, my lady. Now, what would you like to start with – since I just said that we all have our preferences."

"Oh, Master, I would very much like to learn stick defense. I know that we never used sticks at the Academy due to the limited space, but here, we have more room – and fewer students, of course."

"By fewer, you mean one."

"Yes, one. Me!" She grinned.

He chuckled. "That is fine. However, this must be in _addition_ to the other weapons. I do not want you to neglect them – they are equally as important."

"Yes, Master. I won't, Master." She ran over to the weapons and picked up four fighting staffs. "Uncle Iroh purchased these for me, on the off chance that you said yes."

Jiao Ao took two of the sticks. "Good, then. Let's begin."

* * *

On the same day, Jiao Ao met Prince Zuko for the first time. He was impressed by the young man's earnestness and enthusiasm.

"I understand, Prince Zuko, that you are a student of both Master Piandao and Master Chunhuo."

"Yes, Sir." Zuko stood before his new teacher, quaking with excitement and a touch of fear.

"They are men of disparate schools, Prince Zuko."

"Yes, Sir."

"I trained with Master Piandao, so, of the two, my style most resembles his. Is that agreeable to you?"

"Oh, yes, Sir. Yes."

"I understand that you have trained most extensively with the dao swords. Is this true?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I see that you have them on your back, your highness. Are you prepared to use them?" Without preamble, Jiao Ao pulled his own swords out and swung one at Zuko's neck.

Zuko, his reflexes honed by years of training, brought his sword out to block.

Jiao Ao smiled. He lowered his weapon, and Zuko followed suit. "I see that you are." Unexpectedly, he reversed direction and brought the same sword up in a slashing motion. Zuko, after a split second hesitation, brought his blade around, just in time to prevent his new teacher's blade from nicking him in the chin.

"Nice move, Prince Zuko," he said, keeping pressure on the sword.

Zuko, his muscles straining to hold back the weapon, thanked him.

"Can you defend against two?" Jiao Ao brought his other sword around.

Zuko saw, in his peripheral vision, the weapon come around, and, with a mighty effort, pushed aside Jiao Ao's first blade and followed with his body, causing the second sword to whiz above his head.

Jiao Ao smiled. "Very nice, Prince Zuko. I am impressed."

"Thank you, Sir."

"It appears that you know that an opponent is not beaten until he is unarmed. Even then, a defeated foe cannot be trusted. Please keep that in mind."

"I will, Sir."

He turned away, and, without warning, swung down low and brought one sword up in an arc. It found no opponent, though, because Zuko, anticipating a move by his crafty new teacher, had already brought the tip of his weapon up to Jiao Ao's throat.

Jiao Ao looked down at the blade with eyes crossed by the sword's proximity. He grinned and stood, and Zuko lowered his sword.

"Oh, this will be fun, Prince Zuko. Won't it?"

"Yes, Master. I believe it will."

* * *

"A word, Ozai."

As the other cabinet members and army officers left Ozai's throne room, Iroh approached the throne. At the last moment, the flames were extinguished, and he mounted the stairs.

"What do you want, Brother?" Ozai rose from his seat. "I have better things to do." He started to leave.

"I would like to have Father's will read. If you recall, that was one of the conditions of my acquiescence."

Ozai stiffened and turned to face his older brother. "I do not like to be threatened."

"I am not threatening you. I would simply like to know when you will fulfill your side of the bargain."

Ozai gave a tight smile. "When we find Father's will. He hid it, you see, and no one seems to know where it is."

It was Iroh's turn to smile. "Well, then, _Brother_, I bring you glad tidings. I have it."

Ozai's face contorted in rage. "You lie! We searched for it – for years!"

"No lie, Ozai. I just knew – where to look." He turned and descended the stairs. "Tomorrow night, at six, I think. Have all the sages there, as well as a royal scribe." He turned when he reached the bottom and smiled. "Oh, and the royal seal – to make it official."

* * *

Zuko loved working with Jiao Ao. It was very much like working with Piandao, whom Zuko had idolized. He pushed the young prince every day, and Zuko was grateful. Not only was Jiao Ao teaching Zuko the dao, but also hand-to-hand combat.

"Remember, Prince Zuko, that you must be aggressive." He extended his arm in an attempt to strike his pupil. "You must keep the opponent in your line of vision." Zuko avoided his attack.

"You must distract the opponent." He swung out in the opposite direction, and Zuko blocked him. "You must disable him, or expect to be disabled." He moved in, jabbing with both hands. Zuko blocked him again. "You must vary the attack to fit the situation." He swung around and caught Zuko around the neck. The prince grabbed him around the waist and slid his own foot behind his new master's leg. He picked Jiao Ao up and fell backwards.

Jiao Ao rolled out from under Zuko just as the younger man fell to the ground.

They jumped up, circling each other, and Jiao Ao continued his lecture. "If you are in a defensive position, turn it into a relentless attack. Never allow your opponent to rest." After saying that, Jiao Ao moved in, not allowing Zuko any respite for several minutes. Zuko kept parrying and blocking, until his arms ached. "Be confident, Prince Zuko, regardless of the your opponent's size or strength. You can still triumph, even against the largest man."

Zuko's fist came in for a quick jab, and Jiao Ao caught it and twisted it, ending the bout.

Zuko looked at his teacher, who smiled and dropped the prince's wrist. "Well done, Prince Zuko."

"Thank you, Master." He bowed.

Jiao Ao walked over to a chair where two towels hung. He threw one to Zuko, who caught it easily. "Do you know why you should learn this sort of combat?"

"Yes, Master. Firebending is unreliable in some situations." It was something he oft repeated.

"Such as?"

He wiped the sweat from his face. "In rain or snow. It is also weaker at night, and slightly, in winter, and in extreme cold."

"And in close quarters. Firebending for combat demands extension of the limbs." He demonstrated, stretching out one arm. "However, it much less effective hand-to-hand. That is why you must train in this. You must train until it becomes second nature. Remember, when engaged in close combat, you will have little time to stop to think. Therefore, your actions must be automatic. You must attack, aggressively, with only one purpose in mind – to kill – and to survive." He smiled. "Perhaps that is two purposes."

* * *

Zuko, of course, had also begun intensive firebending training with Iroh. Teaching was something at which Iroh excelled, and something that he enjoyed. He loved seeing a student's face when he or she finally grasped the elusive _key _to firebending, which although it varied for each student, was the one thing that caused a student to finally _grasp_ the meaning of firebending. He himself had achieved that enlightenment with the dragons Ran and Shao, may years before. He hoped that it would not take something as drastic for Zuko, since taking him to the dragons was out of the question.

However, after about a week of practicing, he was getting worried.

"Meditate, Prince Zuko." They were seated, cross-legged, on the pavers in the main courtyard, facing one another, as the sun came up, traditionally when the spark of firebending renewed itself every day. Since they were both firebenders and could, for the most part, regulate their own body temperatures, they were both shirtless, despite the chill of the morning.

"Yes, Sir." Zuko set his wrists on his knees, and closed his eyes.

"Don't forget to breathe."

"No, Sir."

"Concentrate on breathing, Prince Zuko."

"Yes, Sir."

"Breathing, not talking."

"Yes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir."

Iroh gave an exasperated sigh. This had been Zuko's trouble since they had started training together. He could not settle his mind enough to allow the firebending to take over. His brain was constantly working – thinking about a million things at once, and Iroh knew that, until Zuko achieved that inner quietness, his firebending would always be mediocre, at best.

"Breathe, Prince Zuko, _silently_, and feel the fire come from your core. Feel it reach out, into your limbs, as you breathe out. Feel it contract back in, into the heart of you, and then feel it _reach _out again, further into your limbs, as you exhale. In and out; in and out. Feel it fill you, feel it in your fingertips, and in your toes, and feel it fill your mind. Do you feel it, Zuko?" His voice throughout was calm, and soporific, designed to lull the prince into tranquility.

Zuko was quiet for a long moment, his forehead puckered. Iroh knew the answer before his nephew said anything.

"No." Zuko shook his head ruefully, his eyes still closed.

"It's all right. Try again. Just – sit there. And breathe. Let the fire take you."

Zuko nodded, eyes shut.

They continued the exercise for several minutes, until Iroh spoke. "Now, Prince Zuko, when you breathe out, feel the fire leave your body. Up out of your core, up your throat, out of your mouth, past your lips."

Zuko nodded again, and took a deep breath. When he released it, he tried to feel the fire leave his core, as Uncle had said. He thought he felt it burn its way up, and up, and out his lips.

He opened his eyes to express the fireball he felt, but only a small flame came out. His inner fire collapsed completely.

His uncle gave him a concerned look. "It's quite all right, Prince Zuko."

Zuko's face twisted in anger and frustration, and he slammed his palms on the cobblestones beneath him. "No! It's not all right! I'm the worst firebender _ever_! Azula makes blue fire, for _pity's sake_, and I can't even make normal, _orange_ fire. What is wrong with me, Uncle?" He shoved his fingertips through his hair and lowered his head. "I'm the worst prince the Fire Nation has ever had," he whispered.

"No, you're not. You are a fine young man. Perhaps we have to go about this another way. Stand up, Prince Zuko."

Zuko bid as he was bade, but it was apparent in his demeanor that he was disconsolate, his shoulders slumped. Iroh grabbed his arms in an attempt to straighten him. Once he had done that, he nodded firmly. "Now, as you know, firebending, coming from the core, as it does, is a manifestation of the fire within you. It comes from the breath, not from the muscles." He grabbed Zuko's biceps and squeezed. "Although your muscles are quite fine, too, Prince Zuko."

The younger man did not respond.

"Fire is the only element that the human body can produce, so that is why it so important to be at one with your core – to have control over your fire. However, because it is from _within_ you, it is also the element most affected by emotion. I sense that you are an _emotional _bender. Perhaps it is best if you harness those feelings as you firebend. You may have more success."

Zuko looked at his uncle, his golden eyes filled with sadness.

Iroh nodded and smiled. "Try it."

"Try what?"

"Zuko! Get mad!"

"At what?"

"At whatever angers you!"

Zuko squeezed his eyes shut. Visions of Azula, firebending, taunting him – _you'll never catch up_. Visions of himself trying to firebend for Azulon and ending up on the floor like a simpleton. His father's face, distorted with disappointment.

Zuko waited for the fire to surge up within him, and felt it coil along his limbs, like a snake. He stretched his arm out with a powerful stroke, and felt the fire shoot out, strong and fierce.

He opened his eyes. That felt good. He looked at Iroh, who nodded with approval.

"Very nice. But, allowing yourself to become emotional – you must not depend on it forever, Zuko. Emotion will hinder your growth as a firebender, at some point. You must still meditate, and find the quietness in your soul that will allow you to access your _pure _fire."

Zuko nodded, but he did not really listen. He had made a flame stronger than he ever had before, and he had _loved_ it. If all it took to be a good firebender was anger, then he could be angry. That would not be a problem.

* * *

Lan Chi's days, like Zuko's, were very full. Besides training with Jiao Ao, Iroh insisted that she continue her academic work. He also insisted that she begin to work with an etiquette teacher to improve her social skills.

"What?" Lan demanded, when Iroh informed her of that. "Why do I need an etiquette teacher?"

He gave her a stern look. "Need you ask me that? I would think that your response was answer enough."

"What do you mean?" She asked, petulantly.

"I mean, young lady, that your demeanor with your esteemed uncle should include some _respect_!" His last word was a bellow.

She jumped up from where she had been reclining. "My _esteemed_ uncle? Do you mean the uncle who abandoned me for _four_ years? The uncle who _left_ me here with his crazy family? The uncle who did not even have the _courtesy_ to let me know that he was _alive_?" By the end, she, too, was yelling.

"I mean the uncle who has _provided_ for you for most of your life!"

She drew herself up regally, and her next words were calm. "I am sorry, _Uncle_, that I have been such a burden to you all these years. I apologize most abjectly." She bowed to him, turned, and swiftly left the room.

Iroh fisted his hands, and flames licked out from between his knuckles. He had not meant to yell at her. He had merely meant to show her that her very actions proved his point. Now, she was angry, and he was angry, and they both had bruised feelings.

Parenting a teenage girl was hard work.

* * *

Lan Chi ran up the stairs to her chamber, and threw herself down onto her bed. She was angry – with Iroh, but mostly with herself; she was also a little ashamed. She supposed that Uncle Iroh was right – her reactions to him since he had been home had been a tad – insolent. She had cultivated, at the Academy, such a facade of toughness and coarseness, as defense, and now she found it difficult to release.

She sighed. She would have to apologize.

Just then, there was a knock at her door.

Lan sat up. "Come in."

It was her uncle. He looked chagrined. "I wanted to apologize to you, my dear."

"Oh, Uncle, you –"

He held up a hand to quiet her. "Please, hear me out. What you said downstairs – everything that you said downstairs – is true. I did abandon you. I did leave you here at the mercy of my brother. And I neglected to let you know, for two years, that I was alive. That was inexcusable. _Those_ were inexcusable. I failed you, in so many ways. I am sorry. Very sorry. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you – if you will let me. I love you, Lan Chi, as much as if you were a child of my own body. You are not, and you never have been, a burden, and I am sorry if my words made it seem that way."

During his speech, Lan's eyes had begun to well with tears. She jumped up and threw her arms around him.

"I am sorry, too, Uncle. You're right – I have been awful to you, most of the time, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so disrespectful. And you're right about the etiquette teacher. I do need one, desperately."

He smiled, and stroked her hair. "It is all right, my child. I suppose that some disagreements are to be expected, between people as strong-willed as we."

She looked up at him. "But, I do love you, Uncle. Even when we are disagreeing."

"I love you, too, Little Duck."

* * *

So, Lan began etiquette lessons with Madame Nushi, a woman who had been friends with Su Hsing, many years before.

She was a rather rotund woman with overly rouged cheeks, but with a good heart. She took to Lan Chi immediately, and began the process of turning her into a lady.

The first day that they met, she decided to teach Lan the proper way to serve tea. She insisted that Lan be dressed in one of the formal robes that Iroh commissioned, and, although Lan protested, it did her little good.

When Lan Chi appeared in the new robes, Madame Nushi clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, my lady, you look stunning."

Lan looked down at the clothing, which was, as Iroh had requested, moss green silk with jade green trim. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes, I do. So few women dare to wear any color other than red. I suppose it is some sort of patriotic fervor, but, really, it is nonsense. Does wearing green make you feel any less _Fire Nation_?"

Lan smoothed her hands over the fabric and shook her head. "No. I suppose not."

"No, of course not!" She smiled. "Perhaps you will start a trend, and we will begin wearing other colors again."

Lan frowned slightly. "Perhaps." She did not really want to start a trend – she just wanted to be left alone.

"Sit, Lady Lan Chi."

"Thank you, Madame." She tried to lower herself gracefully, but the tight skirt hindered her greatly. She tried a different tack, turning her legs to the side, but could not reach the floor.

Madame Nushi smiled. "Trying sinking to the floor like a camelephant."

Lan looked at her with astonishment. "Like a camelephant?"

She nodded with a smile, and Lan tried again, and succeeded in falling onto the cushion.

"Well, I suppose that works."

Lan straightened and attempted to get comfortable. She tried to sit as she always did, cross-legged, but Madame Nushi turned a horrified look on her.

"No, no, Lady Lan Chi! Not like that! Oh, my word, no! You'll end up exposing yourself – to the world! No! No! Like this." She demonstrated, sitting on her shins.

Lan shifted onto her shins. "Ow! Ow!" She rolled onto her back. "That hurts! Who can sit like that?" She stared up at the ceiling.

Madame Nushi's voice was dry. "Only every woman in the Fire Nation."

"Ugh. I think I'll stay down here." Lan's voice came from below the level of the table.

Madame Nushi sighed heavily. "Lady Lan Chi, _sitting_ is the most elementary of skills. Really."

"It does not feel elementary. It feels – _torturous_."

"How do you expect to serve tea to your husband?"

She rolled into a sitting position. "As I have served Uncle Iroh for years."

"Well, you are not his wife – you are his daughter, and do not have to impress him with your skills."

Lan leaned her head on her hand. "What you mean is that he has to love me no matter what."

"Something like that."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Well, it does not matter, because I shan't be getting married."

"Well, not now, of course. You are much too young. But, in several years, the general will arrange for your marriage, and –"

"No, he will not. I do not wish to be married."

"Lady Lan Chi, do not be ridiculous. Of course you will want to get married."

"No. I won't. Believe me." Since the only boy she had ever wanted was unavailable to her, she was uninterested in marriage.

Madame Nushi sighed again. "Be that as it may, Lady Lan Chi, you should know how to conduct yourself anyway. In case you have to serve General Iroh's guests."

She scowled. "Fine. I will sit like a _lady_," she spat the word. "But Uncle better appreciate this!"

Madame Nushi smiled. "I am certain that he will."

Lan righted herself, and, despite some grimaces of pain, she remained on her shins.

"Now, Lady Lan Chi, serving tea is like a ceremony. It is, in fact, the way in which the woman shows her respect and obedience to her master."

Lan looked miserable. "Must we do this, Madame? It feels very – _subservient_."

Madame Nushi looked surprised. "It is subservient. You are, after all, _serving_ the man."

"Why can't he serve me?"

"I beg your pardon?" Madame Nushi was not certain that she could trust her ears.

"I said _why can't the man serve me_?"

The older woman blinked at her myopically. "Because he is your superior?"

"What? Madame Nushi, how can you say that? The Fire Nation is the most _forward-thinking_ nation in the world regarding women's rights. We allow women to go into combat, for spirits' sake! Men are not superior!"

Madame Nushi's face turned a deep red. "Lady Lan Chi, women go into battle because they _must –_ because the numbers of males available for combat are very low. And, the women who go to war are of the _lower_ classes – women of our class are needed to support our men, and to raise the next generation of leaders."

"Lucky lower classes," Lan mumbled.

"I heard that, young lady."

"My apologies, Madame Nushi."

She gave Lan a withering look, and indicated the tea pot in front of her. "Now, despite the fact that our tea is most probably _cold_, we will continue." She slid the pot in front of herself. "The tea ceremony is about respect and hospitality, which is why the woman always pours for the men gathered."

"What if there are no women present?"

"Then the men may pour for themselves."

"What if there are no men present?"

"Then the hostess shall pour."

"What if they are at a teahouse?"

"Then the woman of the lowest rank shall pour."

"What if there are two women of equal rank?"

"Then the younger of the two shall pour."

"What if the youngest one is very young? For example, five or under?"

"Lady Lan Chi! Please! I want to drink tea!"

Lan blushed. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Now, the steps to the ceremony are quite simple. Your servant should bring the pot to the table very hot – in fact, it should have just boiled. She should also bring the blend that you have requested. Once she has brought those to you, you may add the tea to the water. Now, white and green teas should steep for three minutes. Black teas – as well as jasmine and ginseng – should steep for six minutes. No longer."

"Ma'am, I assure you, if there is one thing that I know how to do – it is make tea. It's apparently the _serving_ at which I am deplorable."

"Well, then. We'll go on." She poured each of them a cup. "For honored guests, there should be a sweet of some sort to complement the tea, as a sign of harmony." She indicated a small plate of cookies.

Lan reached for a cookie, but a stern look from Madame Nushi stayed her hand.

"When pouring tea, you should always pour to the man of the highest rank first. Then, you serve all the other men, in descending rank. After that, you may serve the women, in descending rank, of course, and then the children, oldest first. Then, the sweets are served in the same order. The exception is when you are celebrating a birthday or marriage. In that case, the person celebrating the birthday may be served first, and the wedding couple may be served thusly, as well."

Lan's eyes goggled. "Is any of this written down, Ma'am?"

"No, Lady Lan Chi, it is _not_ written down. It is _memorized_, through experience."

Lan grumbled.

"Now, please remember, when pouring tea, to hold your sleeve back." She lifted her right sleeve with her left hand. "Otherwise, you may spill the cups you have poured, which could burn someone. And, even if it doesn't, it always leads to awkwardness, and spoils the entire ceremony."

Lan looked with displeasure at her sleeves.

Madame Nushi continued. "When _receiving_ tea, Lady Lan Chi, bow to your hostess. Take it in your right hand, and hold it in the palm of your left hand." She demonstrated. "Then, turn the cup _clockwise_ three times before you take a drink."

"Why?"

"It's tradition."

"But how did the tradition come about?"

"Lady Lan Chi! Please!"

"Sorry."

Madame Nushi blew out a breath. "You may then drink the tea. No! I said _drink_, not _slurp_!" She shook her head. "When the tea is gone – "

"Do I burp?"

"What?"

"When do I burp?"

"When do you _burp_? Never! Why would you burp?"

"Lu Ten always told me, that, if you enjoyed the tea, you should burp."

Madame Nushi's shoulders drooped. "Prince Lu Ten, I believe, was joking with you. He was a bit of a prankster, as I recall."

Lan gave a sad smile. "Yes. He was."

"Anyway, after you have finished drinking the tea, you should wipe off the part of the cup that your lips touched – with your right hand. You then turn the cup counterclockwise and return it to your host."

Lans gave her teacher a look of dismay. "All that – for a cup of tea?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps I should just always ask for water."

"Don't be facetious, Lady Lan Chi."

"Sorry, Ma'am." She had had no idea that drinking tea was so very, very complicated.

Everything in life, in fact, seemed very, very complicated.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, as Lan Chi settled back into life in the palace, trying to stay out of Zuko's way and feel normal again.

I also hope that you liked my portrayal of young Zuko. I always wondered how, a) he became such a great swordsman, and b) why he always used anger as fuel for his firebending. So I have answered both of those questions, to my satisfaction. I hope it rings true for you, as well. It also sets up the season 3 episode "The Firebending Masters," in which Zuko loses his firebending because he loses his anger.

On a fluffier note, I enjoyed forcing Lan Chi into some girly things, like dresses and serving tea. She fought back for a while, but I was finally able to convince her to give it all a go. She has to have some feminine wiles, after all, if she is to land Zuko!

Well, we'll see how THAT all works out later...

By the way, I based the tea ritual on a real one, although I added all the nonsense about the order of service.


	21. Chapter 20

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just fletch the Yu Yan Archers' arrows.**

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**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes:** Thanks for all the kind reviews. I am tickled pink that you are enjoying this fic! More Ozai in this chapter!

* * *

He hated him. How he _hated_ him. He hated every line on his _fat_ face, every gray hair on his head. He hated his asinine guffaws, his false jocularity, his ersatz wisdom. In short, he hated everything about his brother. What he hated most of all is that he was _here_. He was here, in _his_ country, in _his_ palace, in _his_ _business_. Everywhere he was not supposed to be.

Ozai watched as Iroh strolled into the throne room, followed by his lapdog of a secretary, and all the Fire Sages – those traitors. Ozai's own man, Feng, sat beside him on the dais, a small table set up before him.

The scribes that Iroh had requested sat at the foot of the dais, parchment and quills spread out upon the low table set up there, ready to transcribe all that occurred. Ozai wondered if he could simply immolate them.

The Fire Sages bowed, shuffled along, and sat in a row along one side of the table, while Iroh and his secretary took the other side. Ozai turned to Feng.

"Get down there and sit with them. If he produces the will, I want you to examine it carefully."

"Yes, Sire." Feng gathered his things and hurried down the stairs as soon as Ozai doused the flames. He settled on the other side of Iroh, who ignored him.

"All right, Brother. Where is it? Where is this counterfeit will you have conjured?" Ozai's voice was peeved.

"Protocol must be observed, first, My Lord." This came from the chief scribe, and Ozai regretted not killing him earlier.

"Then get on with it!" Ozai yelled, already losing patience.

The scribe jumped at Ozai's tone. His hand shaking, he picked up a paper and read from it in a weak voice. "Hear ye. All in this room are gathered for the reading of the last will and testament of His Majesty the Most Serene Fire Lord Azulon, twenty-third Fire Lord of the Fire Nation and all its sovereign colonies, spirits rest his soul." The Fire Sages each made a ritual gesticulation across their chests at these words, and the scribe continued. "Will the Fire Sages pledge that, should this document be found to be authentic, they will swear to abide by the provisions of this will?"

The Fire Sage answered affirmatively, each in turn.

The scribe turned to Iroh. "Do you, Prince Iroh of the Fire Nation and all its sovereign colonies, pledge that, should this document be found to be authentic, you will swear to abide by the provisions of this will?"

"I do."

"Do you, Fire Lord Ozai, twenty-fourth –"

"Yes! Yes! Get on with it!"

"Sire, I must ask the question in its entirety, for the record, you see." He began again. "Do you, Fire Lord Ozai, twenty-fourth Fire Lord of the Fire Nation and all its sovereign colonies, pledge that, should this document be found to be authentic, you will swear to abide by the provisions of this will?"

Ozai rolled his eyes. "Yes."

Both scribes seemed satisfied. "Is the aforementioned Fire Lord's will offered here with good faith?"

Iroh answered. "Yes."

The scribes nodded, and Ozai's eyes narrowed. "Can this document be produced?"

"Yes." One of the Fire Sages slid a cylinder out of his tunic. All of the other Sages gaped at him.

"Who produces this document?"

The Fire Sage laid it on the table in front of the scribe. "It is I, Shyu, Fire Sage."

Ozai looked daggers at the Fire Sage, promising him death.

"Shyu!" The High Sage snapped at him. "How did you come by this?"

Shyu's chin lifted. "It was given to me by Fire Lord Azulon the night of Prince Lu Ten's death."

"What?" The High Sage stood. "You had it all this time! Why did you not tell us?"

"You did not ask." Shyu's voice was calm.

"Enough!" Ozai roared, and the flames shot ceilingward. "This will is a forgery! It must be. How could this simple Sage be in ownership of it for over three years with no one knowing?"

"It was given into my safekeeping, my lord, by your father, who instructed me to give it only into the possession of Prince Iroh."

Iroh looked smug.

The chief scribe examined the cylinder, which was wrought of finely etched gold and silver, and removed the cork. He unrolled the parchment from within, and he and the other scribe peered at it carefully, turning it one way and then the other, examining the scarlet seal affixed upon it, and whispering between themselves. After several minutes, he looked at the assembled company. "It appears authentic."

"Let me see that!" The High Sage snatched it from the scribe's hand.

"Be cautious!" The scribe screeched. "That is a royal artifact!"

The High Sage studied the document for long minutes, with other Sages looking over his shoulder. After he had satisfied himself, he passed it along, and all the Sages were given the opportunity to study it. They whispered and nodded and pointed and shook their heads, all while Iroh and Ozai waited, one patiently, one with malice in his heart.

It finally reached Feng, who looked it over a long while. He studied the parchment and the seal and the signature, and the language used. He compared it to several other documents that bore Azulon's signature and seal.

He stood, with the intention of taking the will up to the Fire Lord, but the scribe stayed him. "I am sorry, but anyone who may be a beneficiary is forbidden from touching the document until after its terms have been discovered."

Ozai waved a hand at his assistant, and Feng sat, handing the document back to the scribe.

"It matters not. When it is discovered to be counterfeit, this farce will be over." Feng sneered.

The High Sage cleared his throat. "My – my Lord, it appears to be – well, it appears to – to me, that is – to be authentic."

The flames in front of the throne shot higher.

"Wonderful. Wonderful." The chief scribe smiled, and turned to his companion, who smiled as well. "That is our analysis, as well. I am so pleased that it has been authenticated. Let's get on with the reading, if we might."

He cleared his throat, and smoothed the parchment in front of him.

"In the name of the spirits, I, Azulon, twenty-third Fire Lord, being of sound and disposing mind and memory, do now make and publish this, my last will and testament in order, as justly as may be, to distribute my interests in the world among succeeding men. And first, that part of my interest, which is known in law and recognized in the parchment-bound volumes of the law as my property, being considerable and of account, I hereby now proceed to divide and bequeath." The scribe cleared his throat.

"I leave to my first son, Iroh, all my worldly possessions that passed into my hands from my fathers and from my beloved wife Ilah, to not include any goods passed down as possessions of the office of Fire Lord. I also entreat Iroh to provide for his brother Ozai a portion upon which he and his family might live, the amount to be determined by Iroh, according to his conscience and wisdom."

"_What_?" Flames shot up and out, exploding in a cloud directly over the heads of those seated before the Fire Lord. He stood and pointed at the assembled men. "What treachery is this?"

The scribes, who, upon feeling the heat, had fallen to the floor, refused to rise. "No treachery, My Lord! We beseech you! The terms of the will state that –"

"I heard them! Get out!" He sent another wave of fire over the table, hoping, perhaps, to torch the will, but it was safe beneath the table, with the scribes. "Get out!"

All the men, Feng included, scurried from the room, although Iroh, unafraid of his brother's tantrum, sauntered out. Once in the anteroom, his secretary came up to him, fear on his features. "General Iroh, I am sorry – but I do not understand quite what happened."

Iroh allowed a brief smile to come to his face. "It means that the Fire Lord is beggared."

* * *

"General Iroh! General Iroh!" Iroh heard, as if from a great distance, a voice. He looked up to see Lu Ten, his beloved Lu Ten, smiling down at him. Iroh smiled in return. "Son." He reached a hand to touch his son's face.

"Prince Iroh! Wake up!" Lu Ten's face disappeared, to be replaced by another. "It's Jianyu! There are Royal Guard pounding at the door!"

"What?" Iroh was fully awake now. He rushed from his room and down the stairs, his butler at his heels. Hua stood in the front room, wringing her hands in worry.

"Hua – go upstairs to Lan's room and keep her there! Under no conditions should you allow her to come down. Lock yourselves in."

Hua nodded and disappeared up the dark stairs.

Iroh indicated that Jianyu should open the door.

Six masked Royal Guard stood in the doorway. "General Iroh. The Fire Lord requests your presence."

Iroh gave a convincing yawn, raising his arms into the air. "It's much too late, Captain. Tell my brother I will attend him in the morning."

"General, we have orders to bring you – with force, if necessary." They stepped into the room.

Iroh lowered his arms. "You should probably know that putting your hands on a member of the royal family is a treasonable offense."

"We – we are under orders, Sir."

Iroh put on his most winning face. "I understand, son." He patted the man on the shoulder. "You have your orders. But, really, what matter is it if I sleep a _few_ more hours?"

"But, our orders..."

"Well, if that is all that concerns you, I can give you another order. I am, after all, a general."

"Yes, Sir, but –"

"You are dismissed for the evening. You may return here tomorrow, at an hour past daybreak, if you like, and I will accompany you then. Is that reasonable?"

The guards looked at each other uncertainly, and Iroh smiled. "Gentlemen, it really is quite late. Return to your beds. I give you my word that I will see my brother first thing tomorrow morning."

Deflated by Iroh's reason, they left without incident.

Iroh turned to Jianyu and raised his brows. "That was a close one."

* * *

Upstairs, Hua had entered Lan Chi's bedroom and closed and locked the door behind her quietly. By the light of the full moon, she could see the girl's outline on the bed, and she went over and crouched beside her.

"My lady." She shook her arm. "My lady. Wake up."

Lan lifted a hand to rub over her face, and sat up. "Hua? What is it?" Alarm crept into her voice.

"The Royal Guard are here."

Lan sat up, fear waking her. "What? Why?"

Hua shook her head. "I don't know, my lady. Your uncle told me to keep you in here."

Lan looked at her with grave concern. "Hua, I am going down. What if Uncle needs my help?" She started to scramble out of bed, but Hua's surprisingly strong grip stopped her.

"No, my lady. Prince Iroh told you to stay here, and stay here you _will_."

Lan looked out the window for a moment and saw the moon. "Hua, I can _help_ him. Let me go!"

Her grip increased. "Lan Chi!" In her anger, she dropped the girl's title. "Listen to me! Your uncle wants you up here, where it is safe. _Do not disregard his wishes_."

"But, Hua –"

"You will stay." Her voice was low and authoritative.

They stared at each other, neither wanting to give in, until Lan finally saw the wisdom in Hua's words, and lowered her eyes. "Yes, Ma'am."

Just then, there was a knock, and Lan and Hua exchanged anxious looks.

"It is I, Iroh. All is well." The muffled voice came through the door.

Lan breathed a sigh of relief and ran to open the door. She threw herself into Iroh's arms, and he embraced her tightly.

"They have gone." Iroh looked at Hua, who nodded.

"What happened?" Lan asked, pulling back to look at her uncle.

He gave an embarrassed half smile. "I have apparently made my brother _very_, _very _angry."

* * *

Iroh was right. Ozai was very, very angry, indeed. Upon hearing that his own father had left him nothing – _nothing __at all _in his will, Ozai had been so livid that he literally saw the world through a red haze for several seconds.

He had driven everyone out of his throne room, and sat, brooding, for a long while. He looked around the throne room with displeasure. He took no joy in it right now – no joy at being the Fire Lord, no joy in being the most powerful man on Earth. Iroh had taken away that happiness. Iroh had always succeeded in taking away his happiness. He had always been the more clever, the more powerful, the more _beloved_ of the two brothers, and he still was. He had twisted their father until there was no love left for Ozai, and here was more proof of that. Iroh was the chosen son – chosen by his father for everything, and, even now, when Ozai thought that Azulon's favoritism had ended, his father's final jab – leaving all of his money to his elder son.

The office of the Fire Lord was a powerful one – but it had become, increasingly, with the war dragging on, a poor one. However, Azulon, shrewd and cunning, had made certain that few of his personal funds were used on the war effort. His wife, Ilah, a member of the Fire Nation nobility, was also a member of one of the richest families in the Fire Nation. Her father had revolutionized the production of metal, used in warships and the like, and he had become very, very wealthy. Ilah, an only child, had brought that wealth with her to her marriage, and her husband had done an excellent job of managing it throughout the years. And now, it was all Iroh's.

Ozai gave a grunt of anger and launched himself off the throne. He strode down the stairs from the platform purposefully, and headed for his office. The corridors were deserted, and he was glad. He wanted to see no one.

He slammed open the door to his office, and it banged against the inside wall. Feng, seated at his own desk, jumped.

"My – my lord! I was not expecting you."

"I have to sort out this _mess_ somehow. Since the men who work for me are a bunch of _incompetent fools_!"

Feng fell to his knees in front of his employer. "P – please, my lord, have mercy on me! I tried to get the will for you! I did! I had no idea that _Shyu_ had it! Please, my lord!"

Ozai waved a dismissive hand at him. "Cease your sniveling. I'm not going to kill you. I'd like to kill those useless Fire Sages, though!"

"But, my lord –"

"I'm not going to. And I probably cannot imprison them for _incompetence_. I can, however, banish them – get them out of my sight. Didn't you tell me recently that one of the Sages at Avatar Roku's temple has died?"

"Yes, my lord. He was 103."

"I don't care how old he was! Send a hawk to the temple, and tell them that I am sending, not one, but _two_ replacements." He gave a malicious smile. "Let's see how they like cooling their heels in the back of nowhere. And find me a replacement for the High Sage – see which of the other Sages would be most _grateful_ for a promotion."

He had not solved his biggest problem, but at least he had cleaned his house of perfidious Fire Sages. "Oh, and send the Royal Guard for my brother. Six of them, in fact. That should be enough. And don't let them take _no_ for an answer from my brother, Feng."

* * *

Despite the Fire Lord's order to Feng, the Royal Guard did indeed take _no_ for an answer from Ozai's wily brother. Luckily, for Iroh, Ozai was not to know that until the next morning, since, upon giving the order, he had retired to bed, intending to let Iroh sit and wait for him until the morning.

Iroh, however, although intending to keep his word to attend his brother, did not want to be hauled in front of him like a miscreant, so he made certain to leave his home at sunrise, long before the Royal Guard was due to return.

Iroh went first to see Zuko, already up and waiting impatiently for his teacher. After ordering his nephew to practice hot squats and meditation for an hour, Iroh proceeded to the throne room.

Ozai, by now aware that his brother had successfully weaseled out of seeing him the night before, was not happy.

"Give me one reason why I should not kill you where you stand." Ozai said, silk in his voice.

"Because then Lady Lan Chi would have all of the money you think should be yours. Unless you want to kill her, too."

Ozai's voice was sullen. "Do you think that I would _not _do such a thing?"

"No, I'm certain you would. But I have tied up that money in such a way that, should anything happen to me, or to my niece, you would be certain to get _none_."

"And what of Zuko? Is he not one of your heirs, as well?"

"Zuko was to inherit the throne after me, Ozai. The only money he will ever receive from me is a small yearly stipend that is to continue until he is twenty-one. Nothing more."

Ozai's lip curled. "So all of our parents' money shall someday go to a half-breed."

"Irony is a wonderful thing, is it not, Brother?"

"You still have not convinced me _not _to kill you."

"If I am dead, you get nothing. Alive, I may give you something."

Ozai's eyes narrowed. "What are you offering?"

"I am offering all that you have. You know, as well as I, that many of the items in this palace came from our mother's house. I do not want any of it. You may continue to keep it in the palace, for your use."

"How generous! To offer me _furniture_ I already use."

Iroh shrugged. "The palace would look odd, would it not, without furnishings? Of course, you would still have all of the paintings of the past Fire Lords. As well as a few dozen vases. And that charming desk that the Treaty of Yian Ding was signed on."

"The palace has considerably more than that."

"Much of the furniture is moth eaten and one hundred and fifty years old."

"So you expect to placate me with some gew gaws and a comfortable sofa or two?"

"And some money. Of course, some money."

Ozai's brow raised. "How much money?"

"Twenty thousand a year."

Ozai scoffed. "I could raise that much by increasing taxes on the nobility by a half a percent."

"But they would not like that, would they? They already feel as if they are being bled dry by the Fire Nation."

Ozai set his jaw mulishly, and Iroh was reminded of his brother as a small boy. He sighed. "Ozai, I am aware of the injustice of Father leaving you nothing of your own."

"If you are aware of it, then rectify it."

"I am."

"By giving me a pittance?"

"It is not a pittance. It's quite fair, and, as Father left it to me to administer your funds –"

"I am not a child!"

"Then don't act like one!" Iroh's statement ended in a yell.

They glared at one another for a long moment, then Iroh sighed wearily. "You trusted me once, Ozai. You loved me, as you loved Father. I do not know what happened – I do not know why things changed. But perhaps this was Father's way of attempting to reconcile us."

"Then he did not know us well."

"Perhaps he did."

"So, I shall have an _allowance_, like a child?"

"If you persist in seeing it that way..."

"In what other way can I see it?"

"As a chance – to prove yourself."

"To prove myself? I must _prove_ myself to _you_?"

"You have always been profligate in your spending, Ozai. It was no secret to Father. Prove you can –"

"I can what? Take orders, like a good boy? _I_ have proven myself – time and again. I wasted four years of my life looking for that blasted avatar, and I did not complain! When you went off to fight your battles, _I_ was Father's advisor. Me!"

"This is the last thing that Father asked me to do, and I will do it – to the best of my conscience and wisdom. I hope that you can accept that."

"What choice do I have?" Ozai asked bitterly.

"One always has a choice, Ozai."

Ozai looked at his brother, standing there with a falsely sincere look on his face, _pretending _to have Ozai's best interests at heart, and Ozai's hatred for his brother grew. Hatred and resentment and loathing. That's what he felt. And now, this fat old man was presuming to tell him, the _Fire Lord_, how to spend his money – money that should have been his by rights – and how to live his life! Well, Ozai would _pretend_, as well. _Pretend_ to accept Iroh's strictures. _Pretend_ that all was well. Oh, he would _pretend_, all right. And when _he_, Ozai, was ready, he would strike, and that fat old man would not know from where the strike had come. Then, Ozai would swoop in and take it all. Everything. Everything that should have been his from the beginning.

Ozai smiled, and hoped that it appeared heartfelt. "Yes, Brother. You are right. And I have made my choice. I will accept what you have offered." _For now_.

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**Author's Note:** A whole Iroh/Ozai chapter! I always wondered why Ozai seemed to hate Iroh so much, and I thought jealousy was as good a reason as any.

We'll see, later on, Ozai's Machiavellian plan to get his father's money. I think you may be able to predict at least part of his scheme...


	22. Chapter 21

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I'm just a little loose in the leaf hat...**

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**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes:** Finally, a chance for the two lovebirds (lonely lovebirds) to meet again!

* * *

He saw her before she saw him – in fact, he saw her from a window in the palace corridor he had been walking through, so there was really no way for her to have seen him. He did not know why he had glanced out the window at that moment, into the palace's back courtyard; only, there was a flash of orange, and it had caught his eye, and he had turned to see what it was. When he realized it was _her_, wearing a robe, rich orange, like the deepest color of a flame, he stood, riveted, for a moment, drinking in the sight of her. The sun caught her hair and it seemed to shine in the warm, loving sun, and he was _enthralled_.

She was holding onto two ostrich horses, and he realized that what she was wearing was a riding habit. She was probably going riding with Uncle, but, craning his neck, Zuko could see no sign of Iroh.

Zuko decided that fortune smiles on the bold, and he chose to be bold. He took off at a run and was at the door to the courtyard in under a minute. Taking time to catch his breath and smooth back his hair, he ran through, in his head, things to say to her.

_Hello, Lan. You look – **incredible**. _No – that was a little creepy. _Hi, Lan. Remember me? The boy you spent an hour kissing_? Oh, spirits, no. Try again. _Hello, Lan – will you marry me_?

"Wait, Zuko!" He murmured. _Where did that come from? _He asked himself. That was definitely much too creepy.

He shook his head. He would say nothing like that. Instead, he would be aloof, and act as if he didn't care. That would drive her crazy!

He took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the courtyard.

* * *

Lan Chi stood in the back courtyard of the palace a little over a month after her return, holding the reins of her own ostrich-horse and Uncle Iroh's new stallion, Xuan. They were to go riding after Iroh completed some business, and she was dressed in a new riding habit, part of the entirely new wardrobe that Iroh had insisted upon buying her. The habit was another of the odd colors that Iroh had requested from Fan and Tong – a fiery orange with a dark blue trim. It was very striking, especially with Lan Chi's hair, and she had already received some looks from guards and bureaucrats who had passed her by. Whether they found her attractive or just garish, she did not know. She had protested to Iroh that the habit was much too expensive, but he had waved off her objections. Ever since he had returned to find her at the Royal Academy for Girls, he had been trying to spoil her, to make that experience up to her.

She absently stroked Xuan's silky neck, in an attempt to keep the high-strung animal calm. The back courtyard, which connected the stables to the palace proper, was a bustling hub of palace activity, and Xuan did not like the noise or the people or the rhinos or the other horses. He was a gorgeous, highly bred ostrich-horse, with feathers as black as ink, and long, well-formed legs, along with wicked claws. Although Lan was an excellent horsewoman, having been taught by Lu Ten when she was young, she was not comfortable around this temperamental thoroughbred.

"What a magnificent horse." The voice that came from behind her was familiar, and she turned slowly, her heartbeat thumping loudly in her ears.

_Zuko_! She flushed, remembering the last time they had seen each other, months before – when she had run away, and they had shared stolen kisses in her bedchamber. Since coming home, she had taken pains to avoid him. This was not easy with Uncle Iroh instructing him in firebending – especially when Zuko came to their house to see his uncle. Whenever she heard the bell at the gate, she disappeared into her room and waited until she was sure he had gone. She hadn't even had the courage to steal a look at him. She had not wanted to take a chance that, upon seeing him, she would run up to him and confess her undying love.

She really had meant what she had said to Hua when she came home. She was through with the royal family, outside of Iroh, of course. She wanted nothing to do with any of them. They were just too – dangerous.

Even though she had vowed to stay away from him, she was not going to throw away this opportunity to see him.

He had grown, even since she had seen him last. He was at least two inches inches taller, and she thought she could see darkening hair over his lip. His face now began to look a bit more chiseled, although there was still a little bit of childhood softness left in his cheeks. His hair was as dark as Xuan's feathers, and was still held in a queue that swung freely behind him. His eyes, if anything, were more striking than she remembered – golden, like a tiger's. He was lean, and in the simple red uniform that he wore, he appeared rangy and well-built. There was about him a strange air of intensity and insouciance at the same time, as if he expected something bad to happen to him, but was rushing heedlessly along towards that tragedy anyway.

She bowed. "Good day, your highness." She was proud that her voice sounded so calm.

Zuko laid a tentative hand on Xuan's flank. He looked at Lan briefly. "Hello, Lan Chi." Whatever he remembered about their last encounter, he did not mention it. "This is a beautiful animal. Is it yours?"

She shook her head. "No. It's Uncle Iroh's newest acquisition."

His eyes ran over the horse. "He's gorgeous. Have you ridden him?"

"Ah, no. I can't control him. He's much too big."

"Do you think I can ride him?"

"Do I think you _can_ or do I think you _should_?"

He looked at her for a long moment. "I want to ride him, Lan."

"He's very strong, Prince Zuko," she cautioned.

"Are you saying that I _wouldn't_ be able to control him?" She couldn't tell if the glimmer in his eyes was teasing or anger.

"I'm saying – don't expect sympathy from me if he throws you."

"I won't need sympathy. I'll need you to compliment me on the brilliance of my equestrian skills."

She laughed. "You think highly of yourself!"

"I ride every day on the finest ostrich-horses in the land. Horses from the royal stable. I think I can handle Uncle's nag."

"I thought you said he was magnificent."

"Uncle's magnificent nag."

"Uncle Iroh will _kill_ me if I let anything happen to this horse!"

"Nothing will happen."

"It's hard for even Uncle to handle him."

Hmph." He folded his arms across his chest.

She sighed. "Far be it from me to deny the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation the chance to break his foolish neck."

"I won't break my neck."

"Hmph." She mimicked him.

He raised an eyebrow at her, but mounted the horse nonetheless, as Lan held the reins. The horse began shying as soon as Zuko was seated in the saddle, and Lan continued to hold on until the Prince had settled the animal.

"You can release me now."

"Are you sure?"

He gave her a withering look. She released the reins and backed away. The horse remained still, then, with urging from Zuko, trotted forward, more calmly than Lan would have expected.

"He's not so hard to handle," Zuko said smugly. The animal cantered around the courtyard, and Lan had to admire Zuko's riding skills. He had immediately found the horse's rhythm.

"See, the horse knows who is in charge," he said to her as he came around. "If you let the animal know who is master, you will have no trouble." The horse lurched to the side, and Lan jumped back.

"And which of you is master?" She asked.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

Xuan trotted by a tree, and lifted its head high to grab some leaves, but Zuko pulled on the bridle to discourage him. This angered the animal, and it began to shuffle back and forth. The Prince attempted to bring him back under control, but, instead, the animal began to prance around in tight circles.

"Prince Zuko! Pull up the reins more!"

He did that, but the animal retaliated by bending its knees and extending its wings, then pitching forward at a steep angle. Zuko was thrown over the horse's head and onto the ground. Luckily, instead of trampling on Zuko, the horse backed away with prancing, mincing steps.

"_Zuko_!" Lan unconsciously dropped his title in her panic. She let her own horse go, and sprinted to Zuko's side. She dropped onto her knees beside him and put her hands on his face. His eyes were closed, and she had a moment of dread. Oh, no! She had allowed the heir to the throne to be killed!

"Zuko! Oh, Zuko! Are you all right?" She had no idea what to do. Try to move him? Call for help?

He slowly opened his eyes. "Am I alive?"

She sat back on her haunches. "Thank the spirits. Can you sit up?"

"I – I think so." He propped himself up on his elbows.

She impulsively leaned forward and hugged him. "Are you hurt? I was so worried!"

He closed his eyes for a brief moment as she held him against her, and smiled. "I thought you said not to expect sympathy from you."

She colored and pulled back. "That was before you almost killed yourself! You nincompoop!"

"I did not almost kill myself. I – I miscalculated. And don't call me a nincompoop. I'm the Prince."

A small laugh bubbled up inside her, and she covered her mouth with her hands.

"Are you _laughing_ at me?" He was indignant.

"No, Zuko, it's just – I _told_ you he was hard to control."

A thunderous look came over the Prince's face. "_He caught me by surprise_." The words came from between clenched teeth.

"Oh, Zuko, you _are_ hurt!" There was a long cut by his left eye that was oozing blood. She touched it gingerly.

"Ouch!" His hand came up to grab hers, and she snatched her fingers away.

"Let me get some water." She ran to get her water skin from the saddlebag, and came back with a handkerchief, as well. She poured water on the cloth and gently dabbed at the cut.

"Does that hurt?"

He shook his head, his eyes fixed on her face. "I haven't seen you since you came back," his voice was soft, but accusing.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she looked away.. "I – I've been busy."

"I come to Uncle's house all the time. You're never there."

"I'm – out a lot, I guess."

"Busy." It was an excuse, and he knew it.

"Yes." Embarrassed, she shoved the handkerchief into his hand. "I'm glad you're not hurt. I couldn't stand to be sent to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls again."

"What do you mean?"

She smiled without mirth. "Nothing. Never mind. I was joking."

"You really hated that place, didn't you?"

She shrugged. "It wasn't the happiest time of my life." She stood.

"Was Azula really mean to you?"

She gave another joyless smile. "No more so than usual." She extended her hands to help him to his feet. "But let's just say that she's not my favorite cousin. If _she_ had been thrown from a horse, I don't know how quickly I would have run to help. Can you stand up?"

He allowed her to pull him to his feet. "So that makes me your favorite cousin by default? Wow, are you strong for a girl!" He kept her hands in his.

"Thank you, I think. I consider you my _only_ cousin. I have to catch Uncle's horse." She pulled her hands away.

"I'll do it." As he walked towards Xuan, who had found another tree to denude, the prince was limping.

"You hurt your leg."

"I'll survive." The horse looked at him suspiciously from the corner of its eye, and Zuko stopped. When the horse turned back to his meal, Zuko sidled up beside him, and snatched the reins before the animal could react. Xuan tried to pull away, but Zuko held firm, and soon had him under control.

He walked the animal over to Lan. "Thanks," she smiled.

"You're welcome. Hey, do you want to go riding some time? I promise I'll ride a more docile horse."

She colored and cast her eyes to the ground. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

His face turned red, offended. "Why not?"

She ran a hand over her face, discomfited. "Zuko, you know your father doesn't _approve _of me. I don't think he would like us going riding together."

He did not expect that answer. "What do you mean _doesn't approve _of you? You think he doesn't like you? Of course he does!" He scoffed.

"No, he _really _doesn't."

"Why would you say he doesn't approve of you?" He was incredulous.

"I'm a half-breed." Zuko blushed, remembering that he, too, had called her that on the night of Azulon's funeral. "Not even as well-bred as Uncle Iroh's horse." She patted the horse's side.

"I'm sorry – I called you that once."

She smiled. "It's okay, Zuko. It was a very long time ago. Besides, the names don't bother me anymore. I'm used to them."

"I'm still sorry. I shouldn't have called you that. I was – upset, but I still shouldn't have said it."

"It's okay, really." She thrust Xuan's reins at him and walked over to grab her horse.

He followed. "And I'm sorry for my father, too."

"Thanks."

"But I really don't think he dislikes you because your mother was Water Tribe."

"Well, there was also that whole _spending the night together in your bedroom_ that he still holds against me."

Zuko flushed. "He never knew about that. You were gone when I woke up."

She colored painfully. "He found us together, Zuko."

"What?" Zuko looked off into the distance. "I never knew." He looked back at her. "Why didn't he ever tell me?"

"I don't know." She put a hand on his arm. "But, do me a favor, please. Don't tell him you know. He kept it a secret from you for a reason, and I _really_ don't want to relive the whole experience."

"But I want to know why he never told me."

"But _I'll_ get in trouble _again_ because I just told you now. _Please _don't talk to your father about this. Or Azula."

"Azula? I'd never tell Azula. Telling her _is_ like telling Dad."

"Thank you." She realized her hand was still on his arm, and she yanked it away.

He absently stroked Xuan's feathers. "I'm sorry if you got in trouble."

She shrugged with one shoulder. "It's okay."

"Does Uncle know about what happened?"

"Yeah. He already knows all about it."

"Don't tell him – about this, okay?"

"About this conversation? I won't."

"No, I mean – don't tell him I tried to ride his horse. It was a stupid thing to do, and he's been trying to teach me about thinking things through and making the right decisions."

"Oh. Okay. Sure."

"And – let me know if you change your mind about going riding with me."

"I won't, but…thanks for asking me, Zuko."

A small, wistful smile curled his lips. "You're welcome." They stared at each other for a long time, and Zuko's hand drifted from Xuan's side to her cheek. Her heart jumped several beats. "Lan, I –"

"Prince Zuko!" A jolly voice came from behind them, causing them both to jump, and Zuko to drop his hand guiltily. Uncle Iroh came bustling over.

"What a pleasure to see you, Prince Zuko! Were you admiring my new stallion?"

Zuko stole a glance at Lan Chi. "Um, yes, Uncle. He's quite – spirited."

"The breeder I got him from had another, a little larger than this. Would you like me to buy it for your genbuku?"

Lan's jaw dropped and she looked at Zuko, who was blushing. "Zuko! Your genbuku? When is it? Have you set a date?"

Genbuku, the traditional coming of age ceremony for Fire Nation boys, was supposed to be between the ages of thirteen and fifteen, and Lan had forgotten all about it! It was a ceremony in which young firebenders were supposed to present their firebending skills, and young non-benders were supposed to present their skill in martial arts.

"Well," Zuko's eyes slid to Uncle Iroh's for confirmation. "Uncle said that I could probably be ready in less than a half a year."

"Oh, Zuko!" Lan smiled, genuinely excited for him. "That's wonderful!" She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Are you excited?"

He held on to her fingers, a fact that did not escape his uncle. "I have a lot to do, but, yeah. I'm excited. You'll come, won't you?" He asked her earnestly.

She looked at Iroh in a panic, but he nodded. "Of course, Zuko!" Iroh answered for her. "We would not miss it for the world."

She looked back at Zuko and smiled. "Not for the world," she repeated softly.

Iroh clapped Zuko on the shoulder. "You'll be a man."

Zuko blushed a deeper red, as did Lan Chi.

"So, Prince Zuko, shall I reserve that stallion for you?" Uncle smiled.

"Uh, no, Uncle. Thank you, but I don't think we would have room in the stables for another horse right now."

"Don't make the decision too hastily, nephew. Would you like to take Xuan out for a ride sometime?"

"_No!_ I mean, no, thank you, Uncle."

"Well, if you change your mind about the other stallion, let me know."

"Yes, Uncle. I will." Zuko was ruddy all the way up to his ears.

"Good boy." He turned to Lan. "Shall we go, Lady Lan Chi?"

Zuko reluctantly dropped Lan's hand. "I'll help you mount, Lan."

It was Lan Chi's chance to blush. Zuko brought a mounting stool over, and, offering Lan his fingers, she climbed it. When she reached the top step, she dropped his hand and turned to face him, on the bottom step. He put his hands on her waist and lifted her up into the saddle, as if she weighed nothing. He allowed his hands to remain there overly long. She stole a look at him; his face and his eyes were solemn as he stared at her.

Iroh cleared his throat, and Zuko stepped back, steadying the horse as she gathered the reins. She and Uncle turned towards the city gate, and Lan twisted in the saddle to get one last look at Zuko. He lifted his hand, and noticed that he still had her handkerchief clutched in his fist. He tucked it inside his tunic.

Iroh waited until the gate closed behind them to speak. "So Zuko was thrown from the horse?"

Lan whirled on him, her eyes huge. "You saw?"

Iroh chuckled. "No. I made an educated guess. He has a cut on his temple. He was favoring one leg as he stood. Also – he has a rip in his pants."

"He didn't want you to know." She turned the horse carefully around a parked carriage.

"Prince Zuko is a very proud young man. And a very foolhardy one." He glanced at her sideways, and she blushed. "However, he is also kind, and loyal. I think that he will make an excellent Fire Lord someday."

She looked down at her hands, gripping the reins tightly. "I think so, too."

"I will have to talk to him, though, Lan. You know that I will." Iroh navigated a group of people.

She looked at him when they came back together, beseeching him. "Please don't, Uncle. I won't see him again. I _promise_! I didn't plan to meet him today. It was just a coincidence. Look, I've avoided him for the _past month_. I won't see him again."

"Do you plan on avoiding him the rest of your life?" They turned into the park, their destination.

She looked miserable. "He'll get over me soon enough. Or maybe Ozai will betroth him to someone soon."

Iroh was taken aback. "Is that what you want?"

She was exasperated. "No! That's not what I _want_! I don't want _any _of this mess! But it's not my decision, is it? I don't get to make the decisions! _I_ don't get to decide who I marry, do I? Because, if I did, it would be Zuko!" She slapped the end of the reins against the horse's neck, and he leapt forward.

Iroh caught up with little difficulty. "Lan, please, calm down. You must understand – things look dark now, but you are only _thirteen_. I fell in and out of love a _dozen_ times before I met your aunt."

"Well, that's you, Uncle. I've been in love with Zuko since Lu Ten died. And that's a _long_ time."

"I'm sorry."

She reined her horse in and stopped to look at him, and he did the same. "Stop it! Stop saying _I'm sorry_ all the time for this. It doesn't make me feel any better."

"What _can_ I do to make you feel better?"

"Just – just leave me alone." She gave her horse the signal to gallop, and it shot forward, leaving Iroh to stare after them.

She let the horse have his head and they streaked the length and breadth of the park, until the poor bird slowed to a walk, by a large lake. Lan Chi slid out of the saddle and led him to drink. As he drank, she sank down on the bank and stared at the turtleducks as they floated lazily on the water.

The tears started, then, and she let them come without check. She had thought that all her troubles would be over if she just left the Academy, but she had simply traded one set of problems for another. And these problems were harder – they were worse. These were worse, because they were without end. At least, at school, there was always the knowledge that, some day, she would graduate and escape. But Uncle Iroh was right – she could not avoid Zuko her entire life. And even when he was safely married to someone else, there would be no escape for her, because she would still be without him.

The horse finished its respite, finally, and tugged on the reins to be off again. She stood up wearily and looked up – and up, at the saddle. Spirits! How was she going to get back into the saddle?

With a dejected sigh, she led the horse back home.

* * *

Although Lan Chi's day was ruined by her encounter with Zuko, Zuko's day was wonderful. After watching Lan and Iroh ride away, he stood there a few minutes, eyes not leaving the spot that where they disappeared. He thought over and over again about how her waist felt beneath his hands, the softness of _her_ hands, the feel of her body against his when she hugged him, the flush of her cheek beneath his fingers. Her scent, of lilacs and ginger, intoxicated him. He had wanted nothing more than to drag her behind the stables and kiss her until they were both senseless.

A fluttering in his abdomen told her that these feelings were serious, indeed. He had never felt this way around another girl before. He had liked Mai – it was true – but he had lost interest quickly, and, besides, it had not been like _this_. This inability to think of anything other than Lan, this desire to see her smile, this yearning to touch her – just to brush his fingers against her arm – it was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

He turned, and made his way back into the palace, not even remembering where he had been going earlier, before he had seen her. Before he had seen her standing there – before he had realized that he did not want to live another day on Earth without her. His stomach jumped again just thinking these thoughts, and he wondered if she felt the same way.

_She must_! He thought. _She can't **not **__feel this way_! He smiled. She felt the same. He was certain. Now he just had to get her to confess it. Or, if not, at least get her to kiss him again.

And, then, get her to marry him – someday.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, they meet again! And, again, we see that smooth sailing will not be in the forecast. We do, however, get to see the moment that Zuko falls in love with Lan Chi – or at least the moment he recognizes it. I wanted to make it sudden and shocking to him, like being hit by a bolt of lightning (without the deadly consequences, naturally). And the moment he comes to the realization that he wants to marry her.

We also meet Iroh's big, bad ostrich horse, Xuan, who will, believe it or not, play a larger role in Part Two.

I also want to confess that I sneaked a little bit of European life into the courtyard scene. I assume that, in Chinese/Japanese culture, there have never been side saddles or stylish but impractical riding habits for ladies as there were in say, England of the nineteenth century. However, I was seduced by the idea of having Zuko assist Lan into the saddle, and I caved into my own desire!

Also, I slipped in a little reference to genbuku, which is a Japanese coming of age ceremony, although I have modified it greatly (I mean COMPLETELY) for my own use.


	23. Chapter 22

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just draw wanted posters for the Fire Nation.**

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes:** I want to draw your attention to the firebending mantra mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, which was kindly loaned to me by author **setlib**. It is from her fic, "**Marriage of Convenience**," which is Zutara. It is well worth your time reading. Also, read her AU Zutara fic, "**The Taming of the Shrew**," which is – you guessed it – based on the Shakespeare play. It is ridiculously good – and I am not the biggest fan of AU fics! My greatest thanks to her for the use of her awesome mantra!

I also wanted to draw your attention to my use of the word "breath" below, instead of "breathe" – for you grammarians reading. I used it as a noun instead of a verb, hence the lack of "e" at the end of the word.

Just had to get that out there...

Also, for those of you who watch _Legend of Korra_, I just wanted to say how distracted I was by General Iroh. He is all kinds of sexy, and I think he may just eclipse Mako as the main mancandy of the series...and I see a fanfic coming! Very far out, though; I still have a lot of Lan and Zuko to get through...

Also, PLEASE review – I know, I know, I shouldn't ask for reviews, but I am shamelessly co-dependent. For those of you who have reviewed, many thanks! I appreciate you taking your time to give me your two cents!

* * *

Zuko concentrated. He drew in a deep, cleansing breath. He felt the sun beat down on him; he could see it through his eyelids, and he could feel its strength spiral within him. He repeated to himself the mantra that his uncle had taught him.

"I rise with the sun, I feel its power. What the dragons knew, let me understand. Grant me energy, fill me with your life."

Breath in, breath out.

Breath in, breath out.

Breath in, breath out.

Shift weight.

Breath in, breath out.

Draw in arm.

Breath in, breath out.

Horse stance.

Breath in, breath out.

Extend arm.

He felt the fire leave his fist, and he smiled, opening his eyes.

Iroh stood there, his arms crossed. There was a smile on his face, as well.

"You have achieved tranquility today, Prince Zuko."

"Yes, Sir."

"What has caused this?"

Zuko shook his head, a secret smile on his face. "Nothing – in particular. It's a beautiful day. I feel good. It's good to be – alive." _It's good to be in love_.

Iroh nodded. "Yes, it is. Would you like to try some more advanced sets?"

"Yes, please."

Just then, Jiao Ao came into the courtyard.

"Ah, Master Jiao Ao is here, Nephew. Perhaps tomorrow, then."

Zuko nodded and bowed to his uncle.

Iroh bowed to Jiao Ao, who returned the greeting. "You will be pleased with Prince Zuko today, Master Jiao Ao."

"I am always pleased with Prince Zuko, General. I have rarely met a student more enthusiastic than your nephew."

Zuko grabbed a towel and a ladle of water from a drinking bucket, trying not to feel smug about the compliments from his teachers.

As if reading his mind, Iroh pointed at him. "Do not get a swollen head, Prince Zuko."

Zuko smiled and shook his head. "No, Sir."

Iroh laughed, slapped Zuko on his bare back, and was gone.

Jiao Ao watched him go, and then turned to his pupil. "Dao swords again today, I think, Your Highness."

"Yes, Master." Zuko took up his weapons.

"Defense today."

"Yes, Sir." He took up a defensive position with his swords.

Jiao Ao picked up a pair of sticks and stood before Zuko. "Prevent me from touching you, Prince Zuko."

"Yes, Master."

Jiao Ao began trying to poke Zuko with the sticks, and Zuko began blocking.

Thrust, parry, block.

Thrust, parry, block.

Jiao Ao began circling his student, trying to get under his defenses, and Zuko kept knocking away the sticks.

"Very nice, Prince Zuko. You are showing focus and intuition. Very skillful. Remember, though, that the dao are not ideal for very close combat. Someone trained in the use of the dagger, such as Lady Lan Chi, for instance, is trained to get _under_ the defense of a dao."

Zuko heard Lan's name and faltered, and Jiao Ao struck him in the solar plexus, causing a rush of breath to leave the prince.

"You were distracted, Prince Zuko."

Zuko nodded, and straightened. "Do you know Lady Lan Chi, Master?"

"Yes, of course. She has been my student for nearly three years. Swords up." He waved the stick at him.

Zuko blocked one of the staffs. "You're training her – now?"

"No. I'm training _you_ now. I train her in the mornings. Do you know her well, Prince Zuko?"

"Yes, very well. I intend to marry her, one day."

That caused Jiao Ao to falter. "Do you? I had no idea her heart was engaged."

Zuko grinned, but did not take his eyes from his teacher's sticks, still moving. "I hope that it is, Sir."

Jiao Ao let the sticks drop, and Zuko stopped. "Is your uncle aware of your intentions, Prince Zuko?"

"I don't know, Sir."

"Is Lady Lan Chi aware of your intentions?"

Zuko looked surprised. He had never actually told Lan – he had never actually told anyone, come to think of it – until now, of his goal. He wrinkled his brow. "I – I don't know."

Jiao Ao looked at him for a long moment, then laughed heartily. "Prince Zuko, it is customary, once you have decided to marry a young woman, to tell her of your determination. Women, I have found, like to take a part in their future. They do not like to be _told_." He shook his head. "No. That never works out well." He laughed again. "No. Not at all." He indicated that Zuko should lift his swords again. "And it might be a good idea if you told no one else until you've spoken to the lady and her uncle."

* * *

The _lady_ in question, although, like her enamored, just thirteen years old, was finding herself more and more concerned with the world of adults. She had begun etiquette lessons to prepare her to someday be an excellent and sought-after hostess, and Hua, with Uncle Iroh's permission, had decided to teach Lan embroidery, that most ladylike of endeavors.

Lan had been given the opportunity to learn embroidery in her last year at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls but had been able, through slightly devious means, to pursue the martial arts instead. Now, it seemed, it was time to pay the piper.

Hua, a talented embroideress, had been doing needlework for most of her life. During Su Hsing's lifetime, the two women, despite their disparate stations, spent many hours together stitching and gossiping. The chance to pass the skill onto Lan Chi, then, was irresistible to the housekeeper.

She gathered all the fine thread that she had, as well as all the pillows and clothing and cushions that she and Su Hsing had completed through the years, and sat Lan Chi down for a preliminary lesson.

Lan looked with suspicion at all the frippery surrounding her.

Hua, oblivious to Lan's attitude, looked at her new pupil with a huge smile. "Lady Lan Chi, I am so pleased to be teaching you how to embroider. I am certain that, once you see how _fun_ it is, you'll want to do it all the time."

Lan's face was covered with disbelief. "If you say so, Hua."

Hua smiled indulgently. "Let me show you some of the things that you will be able to do." She picked up a pillow that had a blood-red rose on it. "This was something that I did while I was still a house maid – my goodness! Almost forty years ago!"

Lan looked at it askance. "Really? Forty years ago? It's still beautiful."

"Thank you. As an embroideress, you must choose the highest quality thread and fabric."

She handed Lan another pillow. "This was done by your aunt for Prince Iroh." It was a stunning piece – a golden and crimson dragon on black silk. Lan ran her hand over it wonderingly. "It's exquisite."

Hua smiled. "Yes, it is. Your aunt, spirits rest her soul, was a remarkable craftswoman. She started very young." She sighed. "She had so wanted to teach you how to embroider, but she never had the opportunity." Hua took the pillow from Lan reverently. "Your uncle still keeps this on his bed." She shook he head as if to clear it. "Now, lest you think that needlework is just for impractical little pillows, take a look at this." She opened a box and lifted out a woman's dress robe. It was red and white silk, with beautiful golden chrysanthemums stitched along the bottom. "This was your aunt's wedding robe."

Lan reached out a shaking hand to touch the hem. "Hua, it's – beautiful. Beyond beautiful!" She looked at the housekeeper with shining eyes. "Do you think that I might be able to do something like this one day?"

"I do not see why not – if you practice. But keep in mind that it took your aunt – and her sister Ming Yi, an entire year to stitch this! You can see the different craft work in each flower." She traced the shapes of the flowers at the hem. "Each sister did every other flower, so the pattern is very pleasing. The taller flowers were your Aunt Su Hsing's. The shorter ones are Ming Yi's." She sighed nostalgically. "I remember that. I worked for your aunt's family, you know, and I came to live with her here at the palace, so I was there with her for everything." She smiled at Lan. "We grew up together." She sighed again. "I miss that woman so much."

Lan gave a sad smile. "So do I." She thought for a moment. "Did – did you know my father?"

"Spirits, yes! My goodness, he was the _most_ handsome young man. All the maids had crushes on him."

Lan's eyes opened wide. "Even you, Hua?"

"Well, he was quite a bit younger than me. But he was, of all of the brothers, the smartest, the bravest, the most handsome. Every girl in town wanted to marry him. But he wouldn't have any of them. He wanted the sea. And your mother."

"Did you ever meet my mother?"

"No. Your father found your mother on the ocean – shipwrecked. Well, you know the story. But that was after I had come here."

"Do you miss your hometown sometimes, Hua?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, I do. I haven't seen my own sister in thirty years." She looked pensive.

"Oh, Hua, I'm so sorry ."

Hua squeezed her hand. "Let's not get maudlin, my lady. I have several other pieces to show you, and then we'll decide what your first piece should be."

She showed her several other items, and Lan was surprised to find out that the cushion she sat on every day for meals had actually been embroidered by Hua.

They decided on a small pillow as Lan's first project, based on a pillow done by Su Hsing. It had the simple design of a lily.

Hua taught her how to stretch the fabric on a hoop, how to choose a needle and thread, and how to thread the needle. She sat by Lan's side and taught her the simple stitches necessary to start the task. She took out a project of her own, and Lan was surprised to see it was one of her robes. Hua was stitching the silhouette of waves on the hem of the orange riding habit.

"Hua, that's beautiful."

"Thank you, my lady." She blushed.

"No, Hua, thank _you_! I can't wait to wear it!"

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to. But don't worry. I'll probably finish it about the same time you finish that pillow."

Lan gave Hua an outraged, hurt look, but Hua just laughed.

* * *

"General Iroh, Master Jiao Ao is here to see you and begs your pardon that he has no appointment."

Iroh looked at his secretary over his reading glasses and laid down the document he was holding. "Please send him in, Zhushou."

Jiao Ao came in and bowed to Iroh. "Forgive me, General, for coming to your office covered in sweat. I have just finished with your nephew."

Iroh waved him to sit. "I always appreciate honest sweat. How may I help you, Master Jiao Ao? Is it Prince Zuko, or Lady Lan Chi? Or perhaps neither?"

"Both, actually."

Iroh's brows raised, and he took off his glasses. "Oh, dear."

Jiao Ao held up his hand. "I do not want you to become overly concerned, General. Neither of them has _done_ anything, precisely. Actually, Lady Lan Chi has done nothing at all. It's just that –" he thought for a moment. "Prince Zuko has taken me into his confidence, and I am not one who, normally, breaks a confidence, especially with a student, but –" he stopped.

"But?" Iroh prompted him.

"But it concerns your niece, and I thought you ought to know."

"Go on."

"Well, Prince Zuko let slip the other day that – well, that he has certain _feelings_ for Lady Lan Chi. And that he intends to ask her to marry him."

"I see." Iroh's stomach fell into his shoes.

"I counseled him to tell you, and Lady Lan Chi, of course, since he indicated that neither you nor she knew of his feelings." At the look of concern on Iroh's face, Jiao Ao hastened on. "I do not suspect Prince Zuko of planning anything dishonorable, General. Let me disabuse you of that thought. He has shown himself to be a decent, _honorable_ boy. As I said, I just thought you ought to know."

Iroh drew in a deep breath. This was bad news – bad news, indeed. He had hoped to avoid saying anything to Zuko. He had begun to build a good relationship with his nephew, and he did not want to damage it.

"Thank you, Master Jiao Ao. I do appreciate you coming to me with this."

Jiao Ao stood, bowed with a somber look, and was gone.

Iroh gave a long sigh.

* * *

"Zuko, we have discussed making the right choices." Iroh and his nephew sat cross legged in the courtyard, having just completed a strenuous firebending session.

"Yes, Sir."

"Thinking through a situation, and making a wise decision."

"Yes, Sir."

"Balancing the advantages and disadvantages."

"Yes." Zuko nodded, his face serious.

"So, tell me, Zuko – tell me, what are the advantages and disadvantages of telling your swordmaster that you want to marry my niece?"

Zuko's eyes bulged. "What? Uncle, I – I –"

Iroh's face was stern. "You should have come to me. You should have told me of your intentions."

Zuko blushed and dropped his eyes. "I'm sorry, Uncle. You're right. I should have discussed it with you."

"Yes. You should have."

"But, I'm telling you _now_. I – I want to marry Lan Chi. I love her, Uncle!" He said, earnestly.

"Zuko –" he began, but the prince interrupted him.

"I know what you will say, Uncle. We are only thirteen, and – and, I understand your concerns, Uncle, but I know that I love her, and I will continue to love her. I know that we cannot be married until we are sixteen, but, we can wait!" Zuko's voice was happy, and his face was lustrous with happiness. "I _will _wait for her."

"That is not what I was going to say, Zuko, although the point about your youth is a good one."

"Then – what?" He was puzzled.

"Zuko." Iroh sighed. "I do not know how to say this to you, so I will say it simply: Lan Chi is not the girl for you."

Zuko gave a confused half-smile. "I – I don't understand, Uncle. What do you mean?"

"I mean, Zuko, that I cannot – I_ will not_ – give you my permission to marry her."

Zuko's face fell. "But, wh – why?"

"Because, Prince Zuko, when you marry, it will be to a girl of your father's choosing. The life of the crown prince is not his own. My own marriage was arranged. So was your parents'."

"But why cannot my father _arrange_ my marriage to Lan?"

"I am certain that he already has another girl in mind for you."

Zuko jumped up. "But, I – I don't want another girl. I want _Lan_. I will talk to him, make him see –"

"That is not a good idea, Zuko."

"But, if I do, if he agrees, then I can – approach Lan?"

Iroh shook his head. "No, Zuko, I'm sorry. I have – other plans for Lan Chi."

"Other plans? What other plans?"

"Zuko, that is really none of your business."

The pitch of Zuko's voice rose with emotion. "None of my business? Uncle, I just told you that I _love_ her, and I want to marry her, and –" Small flames appeared from between his fingers.

"Zuko, calm down, please."

"I won't calm down! Why are you doing this, Uncle? I thought you loved me!" He stomped his foot, and a small fireball exploded beneath it.

Iroh was impressed with his nephew's display, but pushed that thought aside. "I do love you. I also love Lan Chi. And I am doing this for your own good. I know that you don't understand now, Zuko, but someday, you will."

"No! No, I won't! I'll never understand!" With those words, he ran from the courtyard and to his bedroom.

He threw himself down on his bed, his face buried in his pillow. How could Uncle do this to him? How could he do this to Lan Chi? Why couldn't Uncle see that he, Zuko, was meant for her – that he would love her and cherish her for the rest of their lives?

Like many boys his age, Zuko saw all things in black and white, and saw all setbacks as the end of the world. He lay there in his bed for a long while, lamenting the thought that Lan Chi would never be his, and, running through, in his mind, his life, up until the bitter end, alone and bereft. With thirteen and a half years of living behind him, Zuko could not understand his uncle's motives beyond thinking that it was Iroh's desire to cause him and Lan Chi unhappiness.

After a while, he drifted off to sleep, his body exhausted by firebending and by emotions. His mind, relaxed, allowed him to see the situation unburdened by his prejudice, and what he thought was the solution to his problem came to his unconscious mind like a lightning bolt. He sat upright in bed to see the noontime sun streaming in his windows, and he smiled. He knew how he would win his uncle over, and perhaps his father, too.

* * *

"There! It's done." Lan Chi held her handiwork at arm's length to admire it. True, the lily was a bit lopsided, and the thread was _lumpy_ in places, but, all in all, not a bad first effort – even if it had taken over a week to complete.

Hua came over with a critical eye. She examined it carefully, a wide smile pasted on her face. "It is quite – good, Lady Lan Chi." Her voice was small.

Lan gave her a jaundiced look. "You've always been a very bad liar, Hua. The pillow is terrible. But I don't mind! Ba Sing Se was not built in a day, after all."

"Nor conquered in 600, I'm afraid." Iroh's voice came from the door.

"How do you like it, Uncle?" Lan held her pillow cover out at him. He took it carefully, and looked it over.

"That's marvelous, Lan! It looks just like a cactus!"

She snatched it from his hands. "It's a lily."

"Oh. Well, it's quite a _pretty_ lily."

"No one can appreciate my artistry." Lan sniffed, and Iroh gave a laugh.

"It is true, Little Duck, that artists are often not appreciated in their lifetimes."

"Very funny." She smiled at him. "But I pledge that I will get better at this, Uncle. In fact, _I_ am going to stitch a dragon onto this very robe." She held up a yellow robe edged in midnight blue. "A _blue_ dragon, in fact. Varying shades of blue. And Hua says it is going to be _spectacular_."

"I'm sure it will be."

"And you _will not_ say the dragon looks like an eel hound."

"I will not." He agreed solemnly, grinning.

"Thank you."

His smile melted away. "I must talk to you, Lan." Iroh turned to his housekeeper. "Could you excuse us, please, Hua?"

She nodded and left the room.

Lan's pulse jumped with anxiety, but she calmly picked up a spool of thread. "Oh, dear. That sounds _ominous_." She marveled at how calm her voice was.

"I spoke to Zuko this morning."

She selected a needle. "You did."

He settled down beside her. "Yes."

She attempted to thread the needle, but her shaking fingers prevented her. "And?"

"I made it clear that you are – unavailable."

"Oh." She licked the thread.

"It would be best if you stayed away from Zuko. I don't want to give him the wrong idea."

She concentrated on trying to shove the thread through the needle's eye, but it frayed, and, in frustration, she jabbed the needle into the cushion she sat on. "I've told you, Uncle. I _have_ stayed away. I have never gone looking for Zuko, or _conveniently_ waited for him outside the palace, or anything!"

"I am not saying that you have. I am merely saying that –"

"That I cannot go anywhere near Zuko. Yes, Uncle, I know. I know. _I know_!" She stood up. "I am sick unto death of discussing this, and you telling me what I _cannot_ do. Well, I understand! I understand perfectly well! So please do not tell me again to stay away from him! I will! You needn't worry! I will _not_ seek him out, and, if he approaches me, I will rebuff him. I give you my word! Is that good enough?" With that, she stomped off.

Iroh sighed. He had managed to alienate the two people he loved most in the entire world – and both in one day.

* * *

Zuko's plan was, for a thirteen year old boy, a fine and ambitious one. He knew that attempting to cajole his uncle into changing his mind about Lan would not work, so he thought to impress him with diligence and maturity. Zuko would redouble his efforts to become a skilled firebender, and would, in short, become the model student and prince. He would study harder, train more, and _learn_ everything that he could about governing his country, so that both Iroh _and_ his father would see that he was a young man who was capable and worthy of making monumental decisions such as choosing his own wife.

So, with that in mind, he greeted his uncle the next day with both courtesy and respect. Iroh, who had expected a return of the sullen, petulant Zuko who had first begun training with him, was pleasantly surprised by this calm, rational boy.

"I wanted to apologize – for yesterday, Uncle," Zuko bowed to his teacher.

"Indeed?" Iroh's brow rose skeptically.

"Yes, Sir. I was – rash, and imprudent, and – disrespectful, and I _am_ sorry. I hope that you will forgive me."

Iroh was slow to answer, slightly suspicious, and vaguely ashamed for that suspicion. "Yes – of course, Zuko. You know that I only want the best for you – and for Lady Lan Chi, of course."

Zuko gave a slight smile. "Of course, Uncle. And I will accede to your wishes. I will speak no more of Lady Lan Chi in that manner. It would be – dishonorable to disobey your wishes in that matter."

"I am glad that you feel that way, my boy. Now, let's firebend!" He clapped his hands, and Zuko nodded.

They trained for nearly an hour, and Iroh was impressed with his nephew's level of firebending. His movements were smooth, and his fire was strong and consistent.

Iroh nodded his approval. "You show great control, Prince Zuko. You have lost that wild edge that comes from emotional bending. You seem to be more at peace with yourself."

Zuko stood at attention. "Thank you, Master."

Iroh, of course, mistook the source of that peace. "You see, once you understood and accepted my refusal of your suit for Lady Lan Chi, you realized the wisdom of it."

Zuko tried not to smile. "Yes, Sir. I am committed now to becoming a student of whom you may be proud."

Iroh smiled. "Good, good. If you continue in this vein, I think that we shall be able to tell your father that you will be ready for your genbuku by the end of winter."

Zuko's jaw dropped. "R – really? You think that I might be ready _that_ soon?" The end of winter was a scant four months away.

"I do not see why not. Let's chat with Master Jiao Ao, when he arrives."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir!" Zuko's face glowed with joy. Achieving his genbuku was definitely a step in the right direction!

When Master Jiao Ao arrived not long after, Iroh and Zuko spoke to him about scheduling his genbuku, at which he would be responsible not only for a demonstration of his firebending, but also for his martial arts. While Iroh spoke, Jiao Ao's eyes surveyed his student.

When the general finished, Jiao Ao addressed Zuko. "Do you think that you could be ready to proclaim yourself a master of the dao swords in only four months, Prince Zuko?"

"Oh, yes, Master! I am sure that I shall be!"

"Indeed?" Jiao Ao had his doubts. "You did not even show up for training yesterday, young man. Is this the sort of dedication I can look forward to from you?"

Zuko blushed. "N – no, Master. I am sorry. I was – distraught yesterday, and I was acting foolishly. It will not happen again! I promise!"

"Promises are easily broken."

"Not by me, Master. I swear. I will be completely committed to the dao! I pledge that to you!" His face shone with innocent optimism.

Jiao Ao looked him over, and sighed. "Very well, your highness. I will take you at your word, and allow you, with your father's permission, of course, to begin training for your genbuku. But," he pointed at Zuko, "do not make me regret this faith that I have in you."

Zuko bowed deeply, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. "Oh, you will not, Master. I promise that you will not!"

* * *

It was a very nervous, but very hopeful, young man who approached his father in the throne room late that day. Ozai, although reluctant to interrupt the governance of his country with something as insignificant as his only son, agreed to see him.

Glad that Iroh accompanied him, Zuko approached his father's throne on shaking legs. He sank to his knees before the flames, bent his body forward, and pressed his forearms to the polished floor.

"Why do you disturb me, Prince Zuko?" Ozai ignored his brother, who, although on his knees, had neglected to genuflect properly.

"My – my lord," Zuko's voice cracked. "I am come to ask a boon of you."

Ozai stiffened, remembering similar words from his wife, long ago. "A devoted son does not ask favors of his father."

Zuko, without permission, lifted his head. "I _am_ devoted, Sire. _Very_ devoted. I wish to be a dutiful son, and a prince of whom you may be proud." Unconsciously, he echoed the words that he had used with Iroh.

Ozai gave a small sigh, although his son did not hear it. "Get on with it, boy. What do you want?"

"Uncle Iroh says that I will be ready for my genbuku by winter's end, and I came to seek your permission."

Ozai's brows raised in surprise. Zuko – _his_ son – ready for genbuku at thirteen? Ozai had been certain that his whelp would barely make his own genbuku in his fifteenth year. He turned to his brother. "Is this true, Iroh?" If there was one thing that Ozai could be sure of, it was Iroh's honesty in matters such as this.

"Yes, indeed, my lord. Prince Zuko has been the very model of dedication, and I have complete faith that he will be _more_ than ready before spring."

Ozai was impressed despite his usual doubts about his son's abilities. However, he did not allow either Zuko or Iroh to see his pleasure.

"Very well, then. See Feng and set a date."

Zuko's smile was so wide it hurt his face. "Thank you, Sire. Thank you!"

Ozai waved the two supplicants away, but, as Zuko rose to go, he stopped him. "Do not disappoint me, Prince Zuko."

Zuko's face fell. "No, Sir. I will not."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, the axe has fallen, and Iroh has forbidden Zuko to come anywhere near Lan Chi. At least everyone is on the same page – or are they? Zuko seems determined to have his cake and eat it, too – or something to that effect...

We also get to hear Zuko's plans for the future, which he has been holding very close to the chest! He seems to have forgotten, as Jiao Ao pointed out, that one should ask a woman if she wants to marry you before announcing it to others. Zuko, of course, did not have the same restriction on him that Lan Chi at that time did, since Ozai had never actually banned Zuko from seeing Lan. He has left the burden to Lan Chi to avoid Zuko!

And, on that note, happy Father's Day to all - and let's hope that you all have fathers better than Ozai! ; )


	24. Chapter 23

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just re-shelf the books in Wan Shi Tong's library.**

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes: **Herein lies the chapter in which Zuko and Lan break their promises...

* * *

"So, Zu-zu. Father tells me you've planned your genbuku." Azula let herself into her brother's room.

Zuko, who had been studying at his desk, jumped. He gave Azula a dark look. "Why do you want to know?"

She came over to his desk, leaned on it, and shrugged. "No reason. Just making conversation."

Zuko glared at her. "You never _just_ make conversation. What do you want?"

Her eyes grew big. "Can't a sister care about her brother's life?"

"A _normal_ sister can. _You_ can't."

"Oh, Zu-zu, you're so _funny_."

Zuko pushed back from his desk and folded his arms. "Give over, Azula. What do you _really_ want?"

She looked at him for a long while, then sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, _fine_! Father says that there will be a ball after the genbuku."

"Yeah. So?"

"Mai and Ty Lee want to come."

It was Zuko's turn to roll his eyes. "Why do I want your dumb friends at _my_ genbuku?"

"Well, you _used _to like Mai."

Zuko colored and turned back to his books. "I don't like her now."

Azula smiled, sensing Zuko's discomfort. "Ooh, Zu-zu! Who_ do_ you like?"

He grew redder, and hunched over his book so that Azula could not see his face. "No one." He mumbled.

"Liar!"

He turned to face her. "_I'm_ not lying, Azula! _You're_ the liar!"

"That doesn't even make sense. You are _so_ dumb."

"Leave me alone."

"I will. As soon as you tell me who you like."

"I don't like anyone! Now go away!"

Realization dawned on Azula suddenly, and she gasped. "You _still_ like Lan Chi, don't you?"

"No! Now go away!" His face was mottled with rage.

"Zuko, you can't like her! She's a _freak_!" Azula was genuinely aghast.

He stood and gave her a shove. "Don't call her that!"

She shoved him back. "Why not? It's true! She's a _mistake_, Zuko. She's the result of a firebender and a _Water Tribe_ woman. She's barely even _human_."

Zuko pointed at his door. "Get out!"

She looked at him, loathing on her features. "I should have known." She sneered. "You're a freak, too! A freak and a failure, and the world's _worst_ firebender, and you're going to make a fool out of yourself at your own genbuku!" She ran off, slamming the door just as Zuko's fireball hit it.

* * *

Lan and Zuko, true to their respective words, each went out of the way in order to avoid the other, each to obey Iroh. They neither one of them wanted to _disobey_ their uncle, but, young love, unfortunately, was often unruly and disobedient, and destiny, as Iroh well knew, often had desires different than the plans of man.

So it was on another cool day in the Fire Nation, as the winter solstice approached, that they both broke their promises.

Days were short and getting shorter, the nights were chilly, and Iroh was drinking much more tea than usual, in an effort to ward off the extra chill. Although he could regulate his body temperature, he noticed, as he grew older, that it became more of an effort to do so; he found that tea warmed him just as well, and had the added benefit of being tasty and aromatic.

Lan, as had been her wont while Iroh was in Ba Sing Se, was purchasing and blending his teas again. So, on this late autumn day, she was walking to the open market, basket over her forearm, with the intention of replenishing her uncle's tea supply. It was a beautiful morning, and the fifteen-minute walk was no burden at all. She was using this time to indulge in daydreams about Zuko, since it was obvious that dreams were all that she would ever have of the prince.

"Lan! "

She did not hear her name being called, so deep was she in her reverie.

"Lan Chi! Lady Lan Chi!"

Finally it penetrated her head, and she turned to see who had called her.

"Stop the palanquin!" A draped palanquin lurched to a stop next to her and the curtain pulled back.

"Hi, Lan." Zuko grinned at her.

"Zuko!" It was as if her thoughts had conjured him.

"Where are you going?"

She indicated the basket she carried over her arm. "The open market."

"Me, too! You want a ride?" Although he knew that to ask her was to court calamity, he pushed aside those rational thoughts. They were far enough from the prying eyes in the palace, he reasoned, that is was relatively safe.

Her eyes widened and she raised her hands, fingers spread, palms out. "No, no. Really. I'm fine. I'll walk." Having said that, she turned and began walking away briskly.

He jumped down from the palanquin and grabbed her arm, though not harshly. "Why not?"

She grimaced. "I just want to – to walk."

His grin turned to mischief. "Are you _afraid_ of riding with me in a covered palanquin?"

That got her ire up, and she ignored the alarm bells in her head. "What? No! I'm not _afraid_ of anything."

"Then?"

Her eyes narrowed, and her chin lifted. "All right."

His smile grew. "Great. Come on."

He practically dragged her into the palanquin and closed the curtains, shutting them in an intimate cocoon. The palanquin was decorated with the royal family's crest, and its pink fabric drapery gave the interior a rosy glow.

Lan Chi, who had strategically placed the empty basket between her and Zuko, was dismayed when he shifted it to the other side of him and slid closer to her.

"Why are you going to the market?" He was very close to her.

"Um," she was distracted by his nearness – the scent of the soap he used, the scent of his clothes, his slightly musky scent. "Uncle needs more tea."

"He drinks more tea than anyone I have ever met." In this light, his eyes took on a dusky color.

She could not take her own eyes off him. "Me, too."

"I don't even think he drinks plain _water_."

She shook her head. "Me, neither." She knew that her words were inane, but her mind wouldn't function properly. She licked her lips, which were suddenly dry. "Wh – why are you going?"

He shrugged and leaned back, stretching his legs in front of him. "Jiao Ao says that I should pick out a new dagger. He says that the one I have been using is too small for my hand now." As if to illustrate, he splayed his hand before her. It was large, with long, elegantly tapered fingers, and neatly rounded nails. She wanted to take hold of it, feel its warmth, and bring it to her cheek, but she dared not.

"Oh."

He lowered his hand slowly, and looked at her intently. She stared back, tongue tied, until the moment became awkward. He dropped his eyes, a slight tint to his cheeks. "S – so," he stammered, "I haven't see you since I tried to ride Xuan."

She grabbed onto that as a safe subject. "Oh, right! Have you recovered?"

His gawkiness disappeared and he smiled again. "Oh, yeah. But look." He turned the left side of his face to her. "I have a scar."

Indeed, there was a small, thin line, about an inch long, between his eye and his ear.

She touched it, laying her fingers against it for a long moment. "Very manly."

"Thank you." He looked uncertain for a moment. "You never told Uncle about that?"

"I promised that I wouldn't." She frowned.

"Don't you tell Uncle everything?"

"I try to. But, if someone tells me a secret and asks me not to tell him – and it's not a dangerous secret, of course, then I won't tell him."

Zuko sat up again, and turned his body to hers, legs crossed in front of him. "Good, because I want to tell you a secret. But you can't ever tell him."

"Okay. You sure it's not anything dangerous? Like you want to ride a Komodo rhino bareback?"

He shook his head. "You promise not to tell him?"

Her face was solemn. "I won't tell him."

"Good." He looked around them, as if expecting to see a face in the corner. "Come here." He wagged his forefinger, beckoning her closer.

"Zuko! There's no one here. No one is listening."

"You can't be too sure. Come closer." He put his head near hers, and she followed suit until his lips were almost touching her ear.

Then, in a split second, his arms were around her and his lips pressed against hers.

Shock and pleasure warred within Lan until pleasure won out. She kissed him back, all the dreaming and imagining this event giving her boldness. Then, fortunately, reason forced desire back down, and she pushed him away, an astonished look on her face. His face mirrored the same emotion. "I have to go." She started to scramble out of the palanquin, but he stopped her with a hand around her upper arm.

"Why?"

"Zuko, I can't be here. We can't do _this_. We just can't!"

"Why?" He wanted her to say it – he wanted her to say what he suspected – that Uncle had told her, as well, to stay away.

"Because!"

"Because? That's not much of a reason!"

He still had her arm. "Let me go. I have to go."

His grip did not loosen. "I thought you _liked_ me!"

She put her free hand on her head and gave a growl of frustration. "I do like you, but –"

"Then why won't you stay?"

"I – I just can't!"

"Why not?"

"Oooh! Boys are so _stupid_!"

He finally dropped her arm. "_I'm _stupid? _You_ just said you like me but you won't stay and you won't tell me why!" His face was dark. "If boys are stupid, then girls are _crazy_!"

Her face turned red. "Well, if I'm crazy, then I'll go!"

"You already said you were going, so fine! Go!" He crossed his arms mulishly.

"Fine! I will! Stop the palanquin!"

"I will! Stop the palanquin!" He shouted to his bearers.

It stopped suddenly, and Lan, on her knees attempting to exit, was hurled forward, out the curtains, and onto the street. With embarrassment coloring her entire body, she sprang up, unhurt, but fuming.

Zuko, unseen by Lan, watched her fall with horror, and jumped out after her. "Lan, are you all right?" He cupped her elbow solicitously.

She jerked away from him. "Yes! I'm fine! Now _just leave me alone_!"

His face turned red. "Fine!"

"Fine!" She shouted as he hopped back into the palanquin. He ordered the vehicle forward and was gone.

She watched the palanquin go with a mixture of anger and regret, and then realized that she was missing something. "Oh, he's got my basket." She sighed, and turned back towards home, all joy in the day gone.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Lan was curled up on the window seat, watching the leaves drift off the cherry tree, and feeling as dead as they. Fighting with Zuko was infinitely worse than not seeing him at all, and she had been holding back tears for hours.

There was a knock on the door, and Jianyu passed her to answer it. He came back just a few minutes later with a basket, which he set down beside her. She sat up and looked at it in amazement. It was her basket, filled with bags of tea.

"This is for you, my lady. It was just delivered."

A smile crept over her face. "For me?"

"Yes. This accompanied it." He held out a sealed letter, and she took it from him wonderingly. Jianyu bowed, and left her to open it alone.

She broke the seal with shaking fingers and unfolded the paper.

_Dear Lan,_

_I'm sorry for what happened earlier. It was my fault. Please don't be angry with me. I could not bear it._

_Yours always,_

_Z_

_P.S. I hope that Uncle likes this tea._

She smiled, and ran her fingers over the lettering. This was the only letter she had ever received from Zuko, and she intended to cherish it forever. And he was not angry. In fact, he begged her forgiveness.

The day seemed suddenly brighter, and Lan leaned back against the pillows, happy – and hopeful.

* * *

The weeks went by, and the days began getting longer. Although Lan did not see Zuko during this time, she contented herself with re-reading the letter, and imagining him writing it. Choosing the brush, spreading the paper, dipping the brush in the ink, sanding the letter to remove excess ink. Every mundane task involved in letter writing seemed magical when she imagined Zuko doing it. Imagining him choosing the words with care, imagining a slight smile as he wrote the endearment _yours always_. She wished it was true – that he would be hers always.

Lan's time was not all occupied with thoughts of Zuko, however, Her education in Fire Nation etiquette and protocol was continuing, with Madame Nushi bringing in a dancing master, Bengzhou, to teach her the finer points of _genteel _Fire Nation dances.

"I thought we are not supposed to dance." Lan Chi said as Bengzhou pushed back the tea table in the sitting room.

He smiled and stood. "Ah, well, generally, the Fire Lord does not allow dancing. However, in the colonies, and, of course, at royally sponsored events, dancing is permitted."

Madame Nushi came up behind Lan Chi and struck her in the small of the back with the sticks of her fan. "You're slouching. Stand up straight."

"Yes, Ma'am." Lan did as she was bade. "So, what am I learning? The camelephant strut?"

Both adults looked at her with horror. "Oh, spirits no!" Madame Nushi shuddered. "That is a _peasant_ dance. No, you will be learning the royal dances."

Lan looked unconvinced. "There are royal dances?"

"Of course. The palace dance, the courtship dance –"

"The courtship dance?"

"The most elegant of dances," the dancing master sniffed. "And, of course, the feather dance –"

Madame Nushi gave a squeak of alarm. "You are not teaching her the feather dance! General Iroh will not permit it!"

The master looked confused. "Why not? All young women learn it."

"I do not know about _that_!" Madame Nushi seemed genuinely offended.

Lan, who had watched this interchange with confusion, broke in. "What's the feather dance?"

Madame Nushi was flustered. "It's also called the concubine's dance."

Lan flushed a deep red. "C – concubine's dance?"

Madame Nushi waved a hand at her. "It's not so bad, really, it's just that – well, it's a dance of _seduction_, to be performed by a wife for her husband, and since you are only _thirteen_," she shot the dancing master a dark look, "I do not think it appropriate."

Bengzhou shrugged. "Fine. Don't blame me if her husband has _dozens_ of concubines."

"Oh, Bengzhou, you are exasperating. She is not even _betrothed_ yet."

He registered surprise. "Not betrothed? What is your uncle waiting for, young lady? Your first gray hair?"

Madame Nushi squeaked again and struck him with her deadly fan. "Keep your opinions to yourself, you mewling half-man! We are not paying you for your commentary."

Bengzhou bristled. "_Well_! Perhaps I won't teach her anything, then."

"Yes, you most certainly will. General Iroh paid you in advance, so _start dancing_!"

Despite the insults, Bengzhou did indeed teach Lan the formal dances, including the palace dance, the courtship dance, and the battle victory dance, which were all partner dances.

At the end of the week, Bengzhou proclaimed himself satisfied with her progress. "At least you won't embarrass yourself at Prince Zuko's genbuku."

"What?" Lan knew nothing about dancing at the genbuku!

"The Fire Lord is throwing a ball afterwards to celebrate Prince Zuko's coming of age." Madame Nushi smiled. "General Iroh thinks that there will be scores of eligible boys there to introduce to you."

Lan felt vaguely sick to her stomach. "He does?"

"Oh, yes! Perhaps you will even see the man of your dreams there."

Lan cast her eyes down, inexplicably sad. "I am certain that I will, Madame Nushi." But she certainly would not be able to dance with him.

* * *

Prince Zuko, too, was busy, he with preparations for his genbuku. He had taken to rising earlier than usual and going out while the sun was still asleep to practice his firebending. He enjoyed seeing his fire light up the early morning sky, and liked watching it become stronger as sunrise neared.

His uncle had been teaching him increasingly harder forms, and Zuko had been having more trouble than he would have liked to admit. Although his firebending had improved greatly since his uncle had returned, his lack of faith in his own ability, and his turmoil over his relationship with Lan Chi, still prevented him from realizing his true potential.

He kept his word to himself that he would try to be the model student in both swords and firebending, and neither of his teachers could ask for more effort from the young man. However, the fact that he excelled much more in mastery of the sword than in mastery of firebending was a great concern to both him and Iroh.

However, although he would have liked to have spent all his free time practicing for the genbuku, his sister and father had different plans for him.

Azula, painfully aware that there would be dancing at her brother's genbuku, and painfully aware that she had never danced a step in her life, had requested, from her father, her own dancing master, and he had obliged, although he set one caveat: Zuko must learn, as well. So, that was how Azula and her less-than-willing brother had ended up in the great ballroom of the palace, standing before their new dancing master, Master Hanzi.

"First of all, allow me to say how honored I am to be able to teach you the formal dances of the Fire Nation." Hanzi smiled at the siblings.

Azula examined her cuticles. "Of course you are."

Zuko rolled his eyes.

"Now, your highnesses, the first dance we are going to learn is the courtship dance."

Zuko looked at the man with disgust. "What? I am not going to dance a _courtship_ dance with my sister!"

Azula frowned at him. "Don't think I want this any more than you do, Zu-zu. Father is _forcing_ me to dance with you."

"Yes," Hanzi wagged a finger at them, "and since it _is_ the Fire Lord's will –" he stopped and wagged his finger more emphatically.

Zuko sighed aggrievedly. "Let's get on with this. I have to get back to training."

The dancing master arranged them so that faced each other, and showed them the first steps of the dance, which included the dancers circling one another whilst holding the other's wrist, and then circling back. They repeated the move several times, and moved onto the next set of steps, which consisted of the mirror images of the first set of moves. Although the dance master was calling out the steps as the siblings danced, Zuko missed a turn and accidentally trod on Azula's foot.

"Ouch! You stepped on me, you clod!" She shoved him.

"Sorry, Azula. I didn't see your _giant_ foot."

"You are so clumsy! You'll probably set the palace on fire at the genbuku – or cut someone's head off with your stupid swords!"

"Are you volunteering?" He snarled.

She gave him an evil smile, and Zuko felt the temperature increase where her hand was in contact with his wrist.

"Let go!" He tried to tug his arm away from her.

"What's the matter, _Suck-o_? Can't stand the heat?"

He twisted his arm, released himself, and caught her wrist in a firm grip.

The dancing master, noticing that his pupils had stopped dancing and started grappling, stamped his foot in an attempt to regain control. It did little good, however.

"Let go." Azula's voice was low and calm.

"Make me." Zuko's voice matched hers.

She reached up behind her brother and grabbed his queue. "If you want to keep your pretty hair, _Brother_, you'll let me go."

"Children!" Iroh's voice caused them to spring apart. "What is the meaning of this?"

Azula turned a saccharine smile on him. "Just dancing, Uncle. Right, Zu-zu?"

Zuko gave his sister a searing look. "Yes, Uncle, just dancing."

His look was knowing. "Then please make it look less like combat."

"Yes, Sir." Zuko bowed.

"Wrap this lesson up, please, Hanzi. Prince Zuko needs to work on his firebending."

The dancing master bowed to Iroh. "Yes, General Iroh." He turned to Zuko and Azula. "We have not finished here. We will meet again tomorrow, at this same time."

Azula smiled at her brother. "I can't wait."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. I based the dances on actual Chinese folk dances, although I modified them quite a bit.

You may notice that Zuko echoed his own words from "Zuko Alone" with his _girls are crazy_ comment. It appears that his opinion of the fairer sex has not changed very much. Also, there was a little bit of foreshadowing with Zuko's new scar on his temple that he shows Lan Chi so proudly...

I also hope you enjoyed the scenes between Azula and Zuko. I have not portrayed them together much, and I thought it important to show that, although they generally loathe each other, they are forced to interact. I also wanted to show that Azula is not always master (mistress?) of her world, and hence the request to Zuko about inviting her friends, and also her insecurity about dancing. I think, however, that it was a bonus to her to be able to torture Zuko and learn to dance at the same time!

Up soon: Zuko's coming of age party! By the way, I am aware that the phrase "Zuko's genbuku" is an awkward one, but, unfortunately, that is what the ceremony is called in Japan, and I wanted it to be as realistic as possible! So, don't laugh every time you read "Zuko's genbuku." Unless you want to. It's also fun to say out loud!


	25. Chapter 24

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN **_**NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER**_** OR ITS CHARACTERS. **** I just refurbish chambers in the Palace of Omashu.**

* * *

**Author's Pre-chapter Notes:** For those of you wondering why I spent so much time on tea serving, following is one of the reasons. Tea serving will come up again in part two...

* * *

"Well, my lady, what do you think of this color?" Hua picked up a spool of thread in a vibrant shade of gold. Lan took it from her hand and examined it.

"It's beautiful, Hua."

"If we want use a nice scarlet for the panels, it will be very impressive."

"Hua Chun! My best customer! How have you been?" The proprietor of the embroidery shop greeted the housekeeper warmly.

Hua and Lan had come to the open market for the express purpose of visiting the embroidery shop where Hua had been purchasing her threads and fabrics for years. Lan Chi had completed the dragon embroidery on her robe the day before, and Iroh had been so delighted by it that he had suggested that the sofa in the sitting room be re-upholstered with silk, with inlaid panels of embroidered dragons created by Hua and Lan.

Hua smiled at the man. "We have quite a little embroideress in Lady Lan Chi, Bu. She embroidered the most _exquisite _dragon on one of her robes, and General Iroh would like us to embellish the sofa with the same dragons. We were thinking of using golden thread on red silk."

Bu nodded. "Sounds lovely."

Lan Chi smiled at him, and handed him the thread. "Don't believe her, Bu. Hua helped me with the dragon – a lot."

Bu chuckled. "Well, you can call it a collaborative effort."

"It is beautiful, though. Hua is right. It's a blue dragon on a yellow robe that's trimmed in midnight blue." Lan's eyes were shining.

"Sounds beautiful. Do you want to see some other shades of gold for the dragon's wings?"

Lan nodded. "Yes. We should have at least three shades of gold, I think. Right, Hua?"

"That is a good idea, my lady."

Bu rooted around in the drawers behind his counter for other colors, and Lan turned to Hua. "I think I should wear the robe to Prince Zuko's genbuku. What do you think, Hua?"

Hua nodded. "You'll be a picture, there's no doubt, my lady."

At the word _genbuku_, Bu looked up. "Did you say you're going to a _genbuku_?" At Lan's nod, he pointed at her. "I have just the thing. Got them in yesterday." He disappeared into a back room, and returned moments later with a pile of cloths. He laid them on the counter in front of the two women.

"What's this?" Lan picked up the edge of one. It was a panel of blood red silk about three feet long, and a foot and a half wide.

He smiled, picked it up, and held it out for her to see. "It's an agni kai drape, ready for embroidery. Perfect for a _genbuku_ gift."

Lan's eyes widened. "An agni kai drape? For _genbuku_?"

Hua nodded. "Oh, yes, my lady. They used to be the traditional gift for the _genbuku_."

"Perfect for a brother or a sweetheart. You can embroider anything you like on it – a dragon, perhaps."

Lan's brain was whirling with possibilities. She had not purchased a gift for Zuko for his coming of age; she had not even thought of a gift. This seemed to be an answer to a question she had not yet asked. And it was a present that she could pour her heart and soul into – something that symbolized her love for him, at least to her. He might never know her feelings, but it would be embodied in an agni kai drape, if nowhere else

Hua looked at her curiously. "My lady, what are you thinking?"

Lan grinned at Bu. "I'll take one, Bu. And the gold thread." She turned to Hua. "The sofa will have to wait."

* * *

Zuko was in a fervor preparing for his coming of age, but his mind was never far from Lan Chi. Although he had not seen her since her fall from the palanquin, he hoped that the basketful of tea and the apology letter had done their jobs, since both were meant sincerely.

He tried to push her out of his mind, as Uncle had asked, but he was never successful, and he came to the conclusion that he would never be free of her – nor did he want to be. His plan of convincing Iroh that he would be a good husband for Lan Chi continued, and he liked to think that he was succeeding. That did not mean, though, that he had given up trying to see her through subterfuge or other means.

Showing up unexpectedly at Iroh's door was one of Zuko's favorite ways to _accidentally_ catch a glimpse of Lan, although sightings of her were rare, and more likely he ended up talking to Uncle Iroh over a cup of tea, which, all in all, was not a _bad_ thing.

However, one day, he was lucky. Very lucky, indeed.

Zuko knew that Iroh was attending a war strategy meeting, so there was little chance of seeing him at home. Zuko scaled the wall of Iroh's courtyard, since to go in via the front gate, which had a bell on it, always seemed to alert Lan Chi to his plans and caused her to flee.

Once he had straightened his dress uniform, which he chosen for its smartness, he knocked on the door.

Lan Chi was not, alas for her, able to move quickly enough to bolt from the room when she heard the knock. She had just settled down to tea, which was now no small event. Part of of Madame Nushi's tutelage was an insistence that Lan Chi serve tea in a formal setting _every day_, and that she dress the part. Usually, Lan served Uncle Iroh, but he was not home yet, and so, stuck at the low table on her shins, in a camelephant pose from which it was not easy to extricate herself, she heard Hua announce him.

"Prince Zuko, my lady."

"Criminy," she muttered under her breath. There was no escaping.

Zuko entered the room, and his jaw, when he saw her attired in a red formal robe with her hair pinned on her head in a coronet, dropped. _Spirits, she's beautiful! H_e stammered a _hello_ and bowed.

She colored and looked down at her hands for a moment. "Good afternoon, Prince Zuko."

He drew in a deep breath and calmed himself. "Were you expecting me, Cousin?"

Her head snapped up. "No! Why? Did you think I was?"

He indicated the arrangements. "Do you usually take tea like this, when you are alone?"

She flushed again. "Well, as a matter of fact, I _do_, but I was expecting Uncle."

"He's in a war meeting."

"Oh." She could expect no rescue from him, then, although she really did not want to be rescued, anyway.

Zuko stood expectantly before the table. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to invite me to take tea with you?"

A look of horror passed over her face. "I – suppose so." Uncle was going to kill her, and she was going to make a fool of herself by spilling tea all over Zuko – she just knew it.

"You're so _welcoming_," he said wryly as he settled himself across from her.

"Do you want tea or not?" She asked testily.

"Please." He smiled, and a dimple showed on his cheek. Lan Chi melted.

She poured two cups of tea shakily, although she remembered to lift her sleeve with her free hand. She passed him the cup and their fingers brushed. She jumped back as if burned.

"Do I make you nervous?" He gave her a cheeky grin.

"No! Don't be ridiculous. I – just didn't want to spill it."

"Hmm." He nodded towards the plate of cookies. "Do I get a cookie, as well?"

"What? Sure, yeah, I guess." She practically threw a cookie at him.

He tried to suppress his laughter. It was so obvious that she was uneasy. "Why _are_ you having formal tea by yourself?"

Lan sighed, and decided to come clean. "My etiquette teacher wants me to get used to serving tea like this. She says that a successful hostess must know this ritual as if she performs it every day – which I have been doing – every day – for a month."

"Oh. You have an etiquette teacher?"

She nodded ruefully. "Yes. Uncle hired her. He says that I need _finishing_."

"Like you're an unfired clay pot?" He couldn't help but smile again.

She shot him a dark look. "Don't laugh. You don't have to sit through one of Madame Nushi's lectures on my duty to the Fire Nation."

"I thought your duty to the Fire Nation was to defend it against all enemies – not serve tea."

"My duty is apparently to marry well and give my husband _many fine sons_." She quoted Madame Nushi, and then, realizing what she had said and to whom she had said it, she blushed and looked down at her hands again.

Zuko blushed, too, and began toying with his tea cup. After a few awkward moments of silence, he cleared his throat. "So, tell me how you serve tea formally."

Lan latched onto the topic. "Oh. Okay. Well, first you pour the tea, which I already did. And, then," she stammered, "then, you serve it, in order of rank. So, that means that, as the highest ranking man in the room, you would get your tea cup first."

"I'll always get my tea first, then, since I will always be the highest ranking man in the room."

She gave him a sour look. "Do you think so? How about when you are sitting with your father? Or Uncle?"

"If I am sitting with Father, then, of course he will get his tea first. Uncle Iroh – I don't know. He _was_ the crown prince, for a very long time, and he _is_ a general. But I don't know. I'm the crown prince now." He shrugged. "But any other man in the Fire Nation will be served after me, obviously."

"Well, let's assume for the moment that you, o mighty one, are getting your tea first."

He laughed. "O mighty one. I like that. Can you call me that all the time?"

"What? Is _your highness_ not good enough?"

"It's plenty good enough."

"If it's not, you know, I can think of _many_ other things that I can call you_."_

_Darling_? He thought. _My love_? _Dearest_? _How about Husband_? They were all things that he wanted her to call him.

Her own thoughts were very similar, and she wondered why she had said such a thing to him.

"Ahem." He tried to change the subject. "Uh, okay, well, I've got my tea. Now, what is the next step?"

"A cookie." Her voice was strangled.

"Got one. Now, do we drink?" He lifted the cup to his lips.

"Yes. But we should make small talk first."

He lowered the tea. "What kind of small talk?"

"Uh, well, I should probably ask you, as my guest, about your family. How it is – you know, that sort of thing. So – how's your family?"

He grimaced. "Oh, okay. My family. Well, I never see my father. He's always busy – you know, being Fire Lord, and all –"

"I am familiar with your father's occupation, Zuko," she said, dryly.

"Right. Of course. And, well, my sister, she's – vicious – and kind of sadistic, and I think she might be a little mentally unbalanced, as well." He finished with a nod.

She blinked, startled. "Oh, all – right, then. Perhaps we should find another topic of discussion."

He shrugged and drank some tea. "I guess I could – ask you some questions. I guess. You know, make small talk. What should I ask you?"

"Well, actually, you _should_ compliment the host or hostess on the beauty of their home – and things like that."

"Oh. Okay. Well, then," he looked around. "The furnishings in this room are very – striking." He smiled at her.

She smiled back. "Thank you. Most of them are family heirlooms."

"From Uncle's family or Aunt Su Hsing's?"

"Both, I believe." She took a sip of her tea, now cold.

"Ah. Well, what else can I compliment you on?"

"The quality of the tea?" She suggested.

"I would expect nothing less in Uncle's house."

She chuckled. "True."

He looked thoughtful, then snapped his fingers. "I know. I can say –" he smiled slightly, "how incredibly beautiful you look today."

Lan's eyes grew wide, and she slowly set down her cup.

"I can tell you that your eyes enchant me, that your scent beguiles me, that your lips – intoxicate me."

"Zu – Zuko." She breathed, thinking she had never heard anything more lyrical in her life.

She probably had not, since those words actually _were_ lyrics, from an ancient love song that Zuko had read in a book. He hoped she had not read the same book.

The next words were Zuko's, though. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, Lan. I – I think about you all the time. I can't _stop_ thinking about you."

Pain shadowed her eyes. "Zuko –" she began.

"I – I need to tell you something." He interrupted, grabbing her hand on the table.

"Zuko..." She began again, a warning in her voice. She thought, from his demeanor, that she knew what he was about to say. Something that she had yearned for him to say, and now, she wished he would _not_ say it.

"Lan, I think that I lo –"

"Zuko! No!" She stopped him and tried to pull her hand away.

"No, what?" He was confused, but kept a tight grip on her fingers.

"Let me go!" She was certain that Zuko had been about to say that he loved her. The thought that he might actually love her thrilled her beyond all hope, but she knew that, no matter their feelings for one another, they would never be together. Never. And she could not tell him why. She could not poison him against his father. She simply could not. She had to give him a disgust of her, get him to stop pursuing her. An idea came to her – a horrible, horrible idea. She decided on it in an instant. She pulled her hand away. "I – I have to tell you. What you were going to say –"

"Yes?" He prompted, taking her hand back.

"I – I _don't feel the same_." She schooled her face into looking pitying. "I'm sorry."

He flung her hand from him, his face suffused with anger. "You're lying."

"No, Zuko. I'm sorry. I'm not."

"You kissed me. _You let me kiss you_!"

"I've kissed a lot of boys." She had become so adept at lying, and she hated it.

"You said you _liked _me."

"I do. Just – not enough."

"You're lying." His voice was a low growl, and his face was now twisted with rage, grief, and humiliation.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

He stood up abruptly, and knocked his tea cup over, spilling liquid across the table. "You're doing this because Uncle told you to, aren't you?"

She stood up. "No, Zuko. Uncle has nothing to do with this."

"You're lying! I don't know why he hates me – why he's doing this."

"Zuko, I _swear_ to you that Uncle has nothing to do with this."

"Then I don't know why _you're_ doing this – because I _know_ you love me. I know you do."

"Zuko, no. Please – just go. Please."

He ran from the house, and she could hear only the echo of his boots as he left.

* * *

Zuko was angry. He was very, very angry. He had intended to tell Lan Chi how he felt about her. He had planned it in his head. He planned to tell her that he loved her, and he planned that she would proclaim her own undying love and fall into his arms. He planned that they would have lived happily ever after, despite Uncle's meddling.

That was how he planned it. That was not, however, how it happened. What happened instead was that it had all blown up in his face. Not only had he _not_ been able to tell her how he felt, but she, seemingly aware of his feelings, had thrown them back in his face with no compunction or remorse.

And now he felt like a fool. A stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid fool.

He was not convinced that she had been telling the truth, but he had no idea how to prove that. He also did not know whether he cared. If she didn't want him, then he didn't want her!

_Oh, who am I kidding_? He asked himself. _Of course I want her. I want her more than ever. I'm an idiot_.

However, he had no idea how to _get_ her.

* * *

When Iroh came home that evening, he found Lan in her bedchamber, curled up on her bed, in the dark.

"Lan Chi?" He called her softly from the doorway.

"I'm here, Uncle." She sat up and wiped away her tears.

Iroh lit the lanterns with a flick of his wrist, came in, and closed the door behind him. "You've been crying."

"Yes." Her eyes were bloodshot, and her nose was running.

He pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and handed it to her.

"Thank you."

"Hua told me that Prince Zuko was here."

She nodded.

"What happened?"

"Nothing." She shook her head.

He sat down next to her and put an arm around her. "When I returned to live here, Lan, we made a pact never to lie to one another. Tell me what happened."

She decided to be honest. "He was going to tell me that he loved me. I know he was. And – and I stopped him, and I – I told him that I don't love him." She began crying again, in earnest, and, despite the fact that she held a handkerchief, she bawled into Iroh's robe.

"Oh, my dear." He stroked her hair. "I am sorry. I am so sorry that you have gotten involved in this petty sibling rivalry."

She pulled her tear-streaked face from his lapels and looked at him. "What? What do you mean?"

Iroh sighed. "I fear, Lan, that Ozai hates you more because you are my niece rather than because you are of a mixed race."

She waved her hand. "It doesn't matter why he hates me. He does, and that's all that matters. He'll never let Zuko marry me. And I wish that I were dead."

"Do not say that. Do not give up hope."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I don't have any hope left."

Despite all the strictures that Iroh had given her, despite all of the heartbreak and trouble that would come from allowing her to continue to dream about Zuko, Iroh found that he could not bring himself to extinguish that last flame of hope in her.

He drew a deep breath and was silent a long time. "Sometimes, the rarest flowers may flourish where the soil is poorest."

She turned to look at him. "Are Zuko and I rare flowers?"

He smiled and touched her nose with his forefinger. "I think so."

"So, what should I do?"

Iroh shook his head. "I do not know." He sighed. It was time for him to tell her the truth. "Lan Chi, I must tell you something."

She looked at him suspiciously. "I can't imagine what it is. I don't think I want to imagine what it is."

"When I returned to the Fire Nation, I told you that I made a bargain with Ozai so that I might remain here – with you, and with Zuko."

"Yes?" She was wary.

"I told you that, in return for not contesting his right to the throne, Ozai agreed to let me stay – in peace – and bring you home. And be Zuko's teacher."

She nodded, her throat suddenly tight.

"Well, that was not the only condition that I agreed to." He sounded reluctant to continue.

"What other condition was there, Uncle?" She had a very bad feeling that she knew what it was.

"That I would not allow a match between you and Zuko."

Her breath caught in her throat, and she suddenly couldn't feel any air in her body. "You?" She croaked out that one word before putting her head in her hands.

"Lan Chi?" Iroh's voice was concerned.

Lan could not speak. She was livid and hurt and _furious_. _**Furious**_! She lifted her head and looked at her uncle, sitting there, worry written across his face. "You bargained with _my_ life? With my happiness?"

"Lan –"

She shook her hands. "No. Wait. Let me see if I understand this. So that you could stay in the Fire Nation, you agreed to keep me and Zuko apart?"

"I am sorry. I did not know that you had fallen in love with Zuko. Or he with you."

"But you didn't _ask_ me – or Zuko. And you didn't tell me! And all this time, I thought that you were keeping us apart because you were _worried _about what Ozai might do to _me_! But you were worried about what Ozai might do to _you_!"

Iroh shook his head. "That is not completely true –"

"But it is not completely false, either, is it?"

"I made this agreement, Lan, and I should not have – not before talking to you, and I am sorry. I did what I thought was best – for everyone."

Her face was miserable. "Then you aren't nearly as wise as you think that you are, Uncle." She ran from the room, down the stairs and out into the courtyard. It was a cold night, but she did not notice it. Her mind was consumed with her uncle's confession. He had _lied_ to her! He had lied to her, and he had _ruined_ her life!

Her voice of reason spoke up. _How exactly did he ruin your life_? _Your life was pretty lousy before he came back_.

She sighed. _He ruined it because now, if I don't stay away from Zuko, Uncle will be in trouble, too. _Her life was ruined _without_ Zuko; Uncle's life was ruined if she was _with _Zuko. And therefore, her life would be ruined with Zuko, as well. She felt sick, and confused, like her world was spinning out of control.

She fisted her hands and put them against her ears and screamed as loud as she could. The water in the fountain shot up out of the basin, and splashed all over the courtyard, drenching her.

She stomped her feet in frustration as Iroh, Hua, Jianyu, and several other servants rushed out of the house in response to the scream.

"Lady Lan Chi!" Hua surveyed the scene before her. "Whatever happened here?"

Lan cast Iroh a dark look. "I fell in the fountain." She clumped back into the house past the astonished faces staring at her.

* * *

Iroh knew that he would have to face Zuko the next morning, and he went to Zuko's lesson with trepidation.

His nephew was in the courtyard, going through his forms. He had already stripped to the waist, despite the chill, and the sweat glistened on his skin.

Iroh took a deep breath. "Prince Zuko, I'd like to talk to you."

Zuko stopped and dropped his hands to his side, disconsolate and angry. "If it's about Lan, Uncle, I _don't_ want to talk about it." He turned his back on his uncle and launched a fireball with one foot.

"But, Zuko, it is not healthy to keep things bottled up inside."

He swung around to face Iroh, fury on his face. "_I said that I don't want to talk about it_!" He screamed, and fireballs blew up from his fists.

Iroh nodded slowly. "Very well. If you decide that you _would_ like to talk – I am here for you."

"I won't."

* * *

Despite all that had happened, or perhaps _because_ of it, Lan Chi spent all of her free time working on Zuko's agni kai drape. She suspected that Iroh would not be pleased by the gift, and Ozai would be incensed, but she didn't care. In fact, after her uncle's confession - after she had found out that he had played with her future like he played pai sho, she was more determined than ever to give the drape to Zuko, consequences be damned. She was mightily tired of tiptoeing around what _she_ wanted. She had, for so many years, subdued her own desires in hopes of _pleasing _others, in hopes of being left in peace, in hopes of being spared pain, but that had rarely worked out in her favor, and she was weary – weary of fighting Zuko, weary of fighting her uncle, weary of fighting Ozai, and weary, most of all, of fighting herself. She loved Zuko; she always would, and nothing could change that. Why should she continue to try to deny it? _How about to spare your own life, you ninny – and Uncle's_? She sighed. Nothing was ever easy.

She had decided on a golden border for the drape, with thin waves of golden fire on one end. She was pleased with the way the borders were turning out, having to only rip out a few rows of embroidery – more than once, unfortunately, but she counted herself lucky that was the extent of her mistakes so far. She also counted herself lucky that Hua was always nearby to give her encouragement and advice.

One day, after finishing with Jiao Ao, Lan was sitting at the kitchen table sewing, while Cook prepared the evening meal and Hua was repairing a tear in one of Iroh's favorite robes. Although there were maids who could do such menial work, Hua had always taken it upon herself to make certain that all of the general's clothes were presentable.

The cook, who also knew who the agni kai drape was for, exclaimed over it as Lan laid it out on the table to check her stitches.

"Oh, my lady, that is _beautiful_."

"Thank you. I am so happy I'm almost done with the borders. The stitches are so small. I swear that I shall be half-blind when I've finished."

"Oh, it will all be worth it when Prince Zuko sees it."

Lan blushed. "Oh, I'm certain he'll get dozens more – much better than mine."

"I doubt that. Even if he does get others, I will wager none will be done with such a loving hand." Cook smiled and patted Lan on the shoulder.

Lan Chi darted a look at Hua, who glanced back surreptitiously. Were Lan's feelings for Zuko so apparent that even the cook had guessed them? Yes, it was true that Lan was going to quite a bit of work for the gift, but Prince Zuko was, other than Iroh, her closest male relative.

Lan Chi cleared her throat. "Ah, well, yes, I thought that, as he is my _cousin_, I should invest something more than a few gold pieces in his gift. After all, _anyone_ can purchase a ready-made drape." Her eyes slid to the cook to gauge her reaction to the lie.

Cook shrugged, and turned back to measuring flour for dumplings. "And that's why you are such a good girl, Lady Lan Chi. Always thinking of others."

Lan closed her eyes and gave a sigh of relief at her close call.

* * *

Iroh watched Lan Chi from the doorway of the sitting room. She was in her usual place at the tea table, practicing the tea ceremony. Since their argument several days before, she had been avoiding him, seeing him only at meals, speaking only when spoken to – and only on the most trivial of subjects.

She had been absent during his regular tea time, as well, choosing to take her tea alone, when she knew him to be working in the palace.

Iroh knew this had to stop.

He drew a deep breath, and entered the room.

"You look lovely, as usual, Lan." He smiled, and she jumped.

"I – I didn't know you were home, Uncle."

"It was quite unexpected. My meetings were much smoother than I anticipated." He settled down across from her. "So I have time to spend with my favorite niece – for tea."

She gave him a jaundiced look, but poured him a cup nonetheless.

Iroh was right – she was lovely. She had so far avoided the awkwardness that seemed to plague many teenagers – her skin was clear and her body proportional. However, she had not been able to avoid the vagaries of emotion that came with the teenage years. The moodiness, the euphoria, the melancholy – and the rapid fluctuations amongst all those emotions – were common.

Iroh felt at a loss for words, which, for Iroh, was very unusual, indeed. He absently took a sip of tea, and looked around the room – anywhere but at Lan Chi.

She, for her part, stared into her own cup.

Iroh finally broke the silence. "So. You are well?"

She looked at him incredulously. "Am – I – well? _Am I well_? Have you been living somewhere else for the past week?"

"No, I assure you. I have been witness to everything in this household."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"It means nothing, my dear." He sighed. "I do not wish to fight with you anymore. I _am _sorry for what I did, and, if I could do something about it, then, believe me, I would."

She was truculently silent.

"Besides, even if I had not made that arrangement with the Fire Lord –"

"I know." The anger went out of her. "He would still not let Zuko marry me. I just was so – _enraged_ that you did not tell me. That you _lied_ to me, even though you promised that you would not!"

"I did not lie to you, exactly. I _omitted_ some things."

"Anything else you've omitted?" She asked dryly.

"About this? No, not really. And what about you, Little Duck? Anything you would like to tell me about Zuko?"

She blushed. "No."

"No _accidental_ meetings? No stolen kisses when you thought no one was looking?"

She set her jaw stubbornly. "None of your business."

He chuckled. "We both of us have been less than honest, it appears."

"Well, what should we do, then?"

"Make a new pact. Complete, one hundred percent honesty, from this point on." He held out his hand, as if to seal the deal.

She took it warily. "I should tell you, then, that I have been working on an agni kai drape for Zuko's genbuku."

"I know."

She pulled her hand away. "How did you know?"

"There is little in this house that escapes my notice."

"You are very meddlesome, Uncle."

"I prefer to think of it as _well informed_."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope that you liked the tea scene – I think it may be one of the longer scenes with Zuko and Lan, and it was a lot of fun to write.

We also see, in this chapter, Lan chafing against the restrictions placed against her where Zuko is concerned. She is _**thisclose**_ to telling everyone to take a leap into a volcano. It is kind of a departure for her, starting to resent Iroh's authority to the point that she would consider going against it, but emotions are messy in real life, and I wanted her to be a little irrational, as we all can be in love, especially when we are young.

Lan, Zuko, and even Iroh are torn between what they think is right, and by what they each want. For Lan and Zuko, they want nothing more than to be together – although neither of them wants to disobey Iroh, and, by extension, Ozai. Iroh wants them both to be happy, but he also wants them to be safe. So they all are conflicted, and know that a decision must be reached soon. Unfortunately, tragedy will be waiting...


	26. Chapter 25

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just feed the animals at the Ba Sing Se zoo.**

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**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes: ** Winding closer and closer to that fateful day (or maybe it was night)...Thanks to EVERYONE who has been so kind to review – I very much appreciate it!

* * *

The week prior to Zuko's genbuku saw nearly the entire population of the palace in an uproar. Zuko was training all his waking hours with either Iroh or Jiao Ao, Lan Chi was sewing feverishly on Zuko's agni kai drape, and the palace staff was working nearly around the clock to prepare for the throngs of guests. Chairs and a stage were being set up in the grand plaza for Zuko's performance, miles of tables were being set up in the grand dining room for the celebration dinner, and the floor of the grand ballroom was being polished until it shone like glass, for the dancers sure to come.

The cooks and the potboys and the maids and footmen were in a flurry, shining silver and cleaning soot from chandeliers and ironing napkins and washing dishes and all the other menial tasks necessary for an event as auspicious as the crown prince's coming of age celebration.

Ozai was very pleased with the activity around his home. He loved a spectacle, and a spectacle that reflected positively on him he loved the most. He enjoyed seeing all his servants running around, doing his bidding and serving his needs.

Zuko, unlike his father, was miserable. He did not really enjoy being the center of attention, and the anxiety of performing was disturbing his sleep, but he continued apace with his training.

"Keep your fists up, Prince Zuko!" Iroh stood on one side of the courtyard watching his nephew.

They had been working for over an hour, and Zuko was nearly exhausted. He nodded and stopped, bending over to brace his hands on his thighs and catch his breath.

"Take a break, Zuko."

Zuko nodded, grateful, scooped a ladle of water from a bucket and drank it greedily. He wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his arm, and sunk onto the cobblestones.

"Prince Zuko! Are you so well prepared for your genbuku that you no longer need to train?" The voice of his father came from behind him, and he sprang up guiltily.

"My lord!" Zuko bowed deeply. "I did not see you. How long have you been there?"

Ozai gave his son an impatient look. "Long enough." He watched as his brother approached them. "Iroh." His greeting was nearly a snarl.

Iroh bowed, as was proper. "Brother."

"Is Prince Zuko ready for his genbuku?"

"I think so."

"It's a pity that the genbuku no longer allows sparring. In my day, a coming of age meant that you proved your manhood through battle."

"Ah, yes. I remember those days." Iroh's smile was tight. "You broke your partner's arm during your genbuku."

Ozai's eyes narrowed. "Collateral damage."

"I believe that is why the practice of sparring was ended at genbuku."

"Perhaps. But it was worthwhile."

"Not to the injured." Iroh looked away and scratched his cheek.

Ozai flushed. "It would do Prince Zuko some good, I think."

Iroh's eyes snapped back to his brother's.

Without taking his eyes off his older brother, Ozai called his two guards over. "Men! I would like you to spar with Prince Zuko. Teach him some _real world_ skills."

Zuko's eyes bulged. "What? Right now?"

"Ozai!" Iroh's voice was sharp. "This is unnecessary. Prince Zuko is _well_ prepared for _real world_ situations."

Ozai scowled. "I will decide what is necessary." He turned to his son. "Are you unwilling, Prince Zuko? Unable? Or perhaps – scared?"

Zuko drew himself up proudly. "No, Sire. I am willing to do whatever you ask of me."

Ozai raked his eyes over his son. "Good." He turned to his guards. "Don't hold back."

They nodded and took up fighting stances.

"What?" Iroh's voice was perhaps too loud, and Ozai whirled on him, anger distorting his features.

"Silence, old man!"

Iroh's face turned red, but he compressed his lips and stepped back.

Zuko scrutinized his opponents before slowly taking a fighting stance, as well. They were both big men, and attired in the heavy armor of the royal guard, and Zuko knew that he could use that to his advantage. They would move more slowly than he would, although he knew that they had not been training for an hour, as he had.

He drew in a deep, calming breath, and waited as they began to circle him. The taller of the two struck first, and Zuko jumped back just as a burst of fire exploded in front of him. He ducked to the side and punched his fist out, letting a thin stream of fire arc through the air. That was a rather advanced maneuver, and Iroh, although greatly worried about Zuko, could not help but smile at his nephew's progress.

The stream found its target, and the smaller of the two guards was knocked backwards.

Zuko did not have time to celebrate this small victory, however, because the tall man kicked out a foot and then a hand, and fire belched forth from both, causing Zuko to dive between them. He rolled and jumped back to his feet, only to be forced to avoid a fire blast from the other man. The prince darted in close and swung his foot out to sweep low, and, this time, the other men were forced to jump back.

Iroh raised a fist in support of his nephew, and Ozai frowned at him, although he turned his attention back to the action when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a flash of fire that drove Zuko back several steps.

The young man retaliated by stretching his arms out and bringing his fists together to let out a curling fire blast that caused the other men to jump aside. He followed that with a one-two punch that, unfortunately, found no target.

The guards, at that point, realized that they could best defeat their opponent by splitting up and attacking, each from either side. They let loose a fierce barrage of fire that seemed to surround Zuko on all sides.

Iroh gasped as his nephew was swallowed in the fire, and sighed in relief when he saw Zuko sweep away the flames.

However, that relief was short-lived, as the two men launched separate, disparate attacks on his nephew, from both hand and foot, effectively trapping Zuko between them. Zuko yelled as one of the blasts hit his upper arm, but he had enough presence of mind to swing around and out of the way of the other man's attack.

"Stop!" Iroh called, but Ozai held up a hand.

"Stay out of it. This is Zuko's fight."

"It is an unfair fight!" Iroh protested. "Two grown men against a child?"

"Do not interfere." Ozai's voice was low and menacing.

Zuko was becoming very fatigued by his opponents' onslaught; his steps began to falter and his firebending was becoming more erratic. He swept his leg up high to attempt to drive one opponent back, at which he was successful, but took his eyes off his other opponent long enough for the man to sweep Zuko's one rooted foot out from beneath him. Zuko fell to the ground heavily, but lurched upright before either adversary could take advantage of it. He stumbled backwards as both men advanced, fire coming at him in quick, deadly bursts. Zuko raised his arms in front of his face in defense and continued to retreat. His heel caught on an uneven paver and he fell backwards again, sprawling onto the cobblestones. The guards came at him, each with a fire-wreathed hand extended.

"_Enough_!" Iroh's roar was so loud that it startled the men into extinguishing their fire, and they turned in shock to face their Fire Lord and his brother.

Ignoring Ozai, Iroh rushed over to Zuko, still prone on the ground. He knelt down next to the boy. Zuko's eyes were closed, and Iroh noted heavy purple circles beneath them. "Zuko! Zuko! Are you all right?"

Zuko's eyes fluttered open and he looked up into the concerned face of his uncle. He nodded.

"Can you stand?"

"Yes, Uncle." His voice was wispy. "I can stand." He staggered to his feet.

"Are you certain?" Iroh asked, and his nephew nodded again. "Zuko – you are burned." There was a nasty burn on his upper arm, and Zuko looked down at it drunkenly.

"Oh, yes. It – hurts." He started to touch it, but Iroh stayed his hand.

"Let's get you to the infirmary."

Zuko waved him away. "I'm fine." He swung around unsteadily to face the guards. He placed his palm against his fist and slightly above, and bowed to them. "Thank you, gentleman, for sparring with me."

Ozai came over to him, and Zuko bowed to him, as well. "Thank you, Father, for giving me this opportunity."

Ozai's eyes were cold. "You require more training, Prince Zuko."

Zuko nodded, and cast his eyes down. "Yes, Sire."

"Do not disappoint me at your genbuku."

"No, my lord. I won't." He looked up at his father, hoping that Ozai would see how committed that he, Zuko, was to making his father proud.

"See that you don't." With that, Ozai gestured to his guards, and the three of them left Iroh and Zuko staring after them.

* * *

After that, Iroh insisted that Zuko go to see the palace doctor. It was a serious burn, but the doctor was confident that it would heal and leave only a minimal scar.

Zuko, who had recovered somewhat from his battle, grinned at his uncle. "See, Uncle, I told you that I would be fine."

The doctor sniffed. "You may be fine, young man, but you are also careless. Because you are a firebender, this wound should heal quickly, but _please _be more cautious. Burned during sparring – _indeed_! You may be a firebender, but you are not _immune _to burns. Only resistant. This was at close range – don't bother – I can tell, you know. Burns at close range can still do _quite a bit _of damage."

"Yes, Sir." He turned to his uncle. "I did pretty well, didn't I, Uncle? Against Father's guards?"

His uncle squeezed his other arm reassuringly. "Yes, Zuko, you did. But I think you ought to get some rest. You look tired."

Zuko shook his head in protest. "I'm really not tired, Uncle. I want to get back to training. Father said I need to train more."

Uncle gave him a sad smile. "You should rest, Prince Zuko. A man needs his rest."

"But –" Zuko started to protest.

Iroh held up his hand. "I am your master, Zuko. I decide when you will train, and when you will rest. So, rest now. After all, you still have practice with Master Jiao Ao later, and you want to be fresh for that."

Zuko's face looked almost relieved. "Yes, Uncle. I will – if you think that I should."

"I do."

* * *

Iroh was angry – very angry. He walked past his brother's guards at the door to the throne room, and although they, to their credit, stepped forward to intercept him, a look from the Dragon of the West stopped them – especially those who had already faced Iroh's wrath the day he returned to the Fire Nation.

He did not bother to bow as he stalked up the center aisle. His brother was holding an audience with some of his finance ministers, but Iroh interrupted them.

"Out!" Iroh pointed to the door, and the ministers looked from brother to brother uncertainly. With a small smile on his face, Ozai waved them out.

"Ozai! What are you about? What game are you playing?"

Ozai lifted one brow. "Have I _displeased _you, Brother?"

"Yes, you have displeased me! Why in the names of the spirits would you do that to Zuko? He could have been killed!"

"Don't be melodramatic, Iroh. He obviously needs more practice – so I gave it to him."

"Against two experienced _royal guards_?"

"I won't have him embarrassing me at his genbuku."

"How do you make your son's genbuku about yourself?"

"I am Fire Lord. Everything is about me."

Iroh looked at him in complete disbelief. "Do you care," he asked slowly, "if your son is injured?"

"I saw him. There was a burn. He'll live."

Iroh was silent, looking at his brother, whom he had held in his arms on the day that he was born – and saw only a stranger.

Ozai was discomfited under his brother's stare. "If you feel that you have you sufficiently chastised me, I will return to my meeting."

Iroh nodded. "Yes, Brother. Do." He turned and was gone.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** This is the rare chapter that does not have Lan Chi in it, but I really wanted to lay some groundwork for Ozai's future treatment of Zuko. I think he really sees Zuko only as he impacts Ozai himself rather than as another human being, and he feels that any weakness that Zuko has reflects poorly on him.

Next up: Zuko's genbuku. Really!


	27. Chapter 26

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just cut the fruit at the Misty Palms Oasis – under new management!**

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**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes: **I am looking forward to finding out what happens at Zuko's genbuku, since I am not entirely sure yet!

Thanks to my new beta-reader, bowow0708, who will make certain that I do not give anything (else) away in the author's notes, and who will make sure that my nouns and verbs agrees ; ) !

Thanks also to all my reviewers - I really appreciate your heartfelt notes - I am so grateful! Thanks especially to the anonymous reviewer who reviewed my last chapter and gave me such a detailed review!

* * *

The day of the crown prince's genbuku arrived, as everyone knew it would. It was a sunny and warm day, winter seeming to have given up its grip on the Fire Nation capital city. It was a propitious thing to have sun on the day of one's genbuku – it promised a long, prosperous life.

Zuko was not unaware of that prophecy as he stood in the courtyard of his home, arms spread wide, absorbing the early morning sun as it started its ascent over the horizon. He had come out here, as he did every morning, to clear his head, to practice his bending in silence, and to feel at one with his element. With the resiliency and optimism of youth, he had reconciled the turmoil he still felt from his last encounter with Lan Chi into resolve. Resolve to win her back, resolve to excel at his genbuku, resolve to win his father's approval. All was within his grasp – he knew it. And he knew that it would all culminate tonight. Twelve hours were all that stood between him and achieving his goals. The anxiety that had

agued him for weeks was still there, but he knew that he was well-prepared for this night, and, in his mind, he could ill afford the uncertainties of such a malady, although he still felt vaguely sick to his stomach.

He went through his forms, the only sound the crackle of the flames, the pounding of his feet striking the ground, and the whooshing of his breath.

_I am Zuko_. _ Son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai_. _Prince of the Fire Nation and heir to the throne. I am the embodiment of one thousand years of Fire Nation history. __My right to rule is divine, my will decreed by the sages. My dominion is the world_. The words he had been taught by his tutors since his father had taken the throne rang in his mind. He was heir to the greatest empire that the world had ever known, and one day, he would rule over it, and over the entire Earth, as was his right.

But first, he had to get through his genbuku without throwing up.

* * *

There were two other people in the Fire Nation capital who were as nervous as Zuko, and they were, not coincidentally, the two people in the world who loved him the most. One was his uncle and mentor, the other his cousin and the girl who would gladly spend the rest of her life with him. Neither Iroh nor Lan Chi had been able to sleep well the night before, and both had awakened early, to worry. For Iroh, waking early was in his blood; as a firebender, he found his energy in the sun. For Lan Chi, who, as a waterbender, found her energy in the moon, waking early was torturous. Throughout her life, she had been forced, by dint of her location, to rise with the sun and start the day. She would have much preferred to sleep the morning away and go later into the night, but the Fire Nation was not the place to do that. On this day, however, she found herself awake before the sun made an appearance. Awake and anxious.

The day did not improve after that. She spilled her tea at breakfast, put a rip in one of her new robes, and, during archery practice, she broke the string of her bow. Yelling words that no gently bred Fire Nation girl should know, she threw the bow down.

"What upsets you so, Little Duck?" Unbeknownst to her, Uncle Iroh was watching. "It is just a string. We have money enough to replace it."

She sighed. "Things are not going well today, Uncle."

"You're nervous about the genbuku."

"I _am_ not." Her denial was emphatic.

"You may admit it. It is not a sign of weakness. I am nervous – I freely acknowledge it."

Her shoulders sagged. "I feel like throwing up."

"Tea might help."

She saw the sparkle in his eye, and chuckled. "Maybe. So would a nap."

He put his arm around her. "Well, then, take a nap. It is not as if you are scheduled for anything else the rest of the day. Sleep awhile, get up, bathe, and, by then, it will be time for you to get ready." He squeezed her shoulder. "Hua says that you will be wearing the yellow robe with the dragon embroidery."

She nodded.

"You will look stunning."

"I don't want to stun anyone." Lan gave him a sideways glance. "Least of all Zuko."

"Yes. Please. Do not stun him until _after_ the genbuku. He'll need his wits about him."

"Am I to be allowed to greet him – and, dare I say it – perhaps even _speak_ to him?"

He smiled. "Of course. In the reception line."

"Be still my heart! I can actually say _hello_ to him?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

"You might even be allowed to say "_congratulations on your genbuku_.""

"Will Ozai be there?"

"Undoubtedly."

"It may be a very short reception – for me, anyway."

He faced her. "Ozai will be on his best behavior. He reserves his misconduct for his family." He chucked her under the chin. "Besides, I will be at your side to protect you."

* * *

Lan did as Iroh suggested, and when she awoke, several hours later, she did indeed feel better. She took a leisurely bath and washed her hair, and then plaited it down her back. She would be winding it around her head later in a coronet, but that could wait until after she was dressed. She wrapped a breast binding cloth around herself and and rang the servant bell.

Hua came quickly to the summons."Are you ready to be dressed, my lady?"

"Yes, Hua, thank you."

Hua fetched the yellow robe from the closet and removed it from the hanger. She held the two collar ends and assisted Lan into the garment. She lifted the hems off the floor and folded the fronts of the robe over Lan's breasts. While Hua held the robe together, Lan slid her hands into the openings under the arms and smoothed the visible creases. Lan's hands replaced Hua's, and Hua wrapped a thin belt around Lan's waist and tied it. The housekeeper moved around to the back of the robe, pulled Lan's braid free, and straightened the fabric there. She then adjusted the collar so that the garment sat on Lan's shoulders properly, and tugged at the front panels to twitch them into shape. She fetched the stiff stomach panel, and, while Lan held her arms aloft, Hua put it around Lan's waist. Lan then held the panel in place while Hua tied the wide ribbons in the back, and then the housekeeper stepped back to survey her charge.

"Oh, my lady. I was right. You are as pretty as a picture."

She colored while Hua retrieved the robe's matching slippers from the closet and placed them on the floor in front of Lan, who stepped into them.

Hua led Lan to the vanity, where Lan caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The robe, butter yellow with midnight blue trim, its wide belt the same dark blue, with an embroidered dragon that she herself had completed above one breast, was easily the most beautiful garment that Lan Chi had ever owned. Lan put one hand over the wide sash and continued to stare at her reflection. She felt like a completely different person – older, more sophisticated – almost _womanly_.

"Sit, Lady Lan Chi. I'll fix your hair."

Lan did as she was ordered, and Hua began winding Lan's long braid around her head and securing it with pins. "Your uncle has spoken to me about engaging a lady's maid for you. I think it may be a good idea."

Lan's eyes crinkled when she smiled. "Am I that much work, Hua?"

"Well, my lady, now that you are older, you'll be getting dressed like this more and more often. And, to be honest, I am a rather poor lady's maid. I know nothing about the latest fashions or styles. And, once you're betrothed, you'll have to entertain your future in-laws and go to parties. That sort of thing."

Lan grimaced. "Entertain my in-laws? How? Shooting an apple off their heads, or demonstrating knife defense?"

Hua laughed. "Well, my lady, that's why Prince Iroh engaged Madame Nushi."

"She needs to be a miracle worker, I think."

Hua gave a gentle smile. "Don't say that, my lady. You will make a wonderful wife to a very lucky man."

Lan peered at Hua's reflection in the mirror. "I really don't think that I will ever marry anyway, Hua."

Hua had heard this argument from Lan Chi before, so she simply patted the girl's arm comfortingly and changed the subject. "Have you Prince Zuko's present wrapped, my lady?"

Lan smiled. "Oh, yes! It's in my closet."

Hua brought out a large box from the closet, decorated with a yellow ribbon the same color as Lan's robe. "Oh, Lady Lan Chi, what a clever idea. Prince Zuko will be sure to know who gave him this gift."

An embarrassed smile came to Lan's face. "Is it too obvious?"

"Not at all."

Just then, Iroh's voice came up the stairs. "Are you nearly ready, Lan? We don't want to get stuck in the crowd!"

Lan jumped up, grabbed the gift from Hua, and impetuously gave the older woman a hug. "Thank you, Hua, for everything. Really." With that, Lan skipped from the room.

* * *

While Lan Chi was napping and getting dressed, Zuko was involved in last-minute preparations with first Iroh and then Jiao Ao. Both men gave him pointers and reminders on how best to showcase his talents, and he was trying to concentrate on everything they said. However, at this point, much of what they were saying was bouncing off him like rubber.

"Remember to remain calm, Prince Zuko, when demonstrating the Breath of the Dragon." Iroh put his hands on Zuko's shoulders and squeezed. "If you allow your instinct to take over from your conscious mind, you should do well."

Zuko nodded. "Will you be backstage with me, Uncle?"

Iroh shook his head. "You do not need me, Zuko. I fear that I will only distract you. Quietness in your soul – that is all you need."

"But, Uncle," he protested, "Where will you be?"

Iroh smiled. "I will be in the audience, with Lady Lan Chi."

Zuko suddenly looked stricken. "I don't want to embarrass myself in front of her, Uncle."

"You will not. Forget that she is there."

"Not much chance of that!"

"Do your best."

"You will be on the reception line with me, though, won't you?"

Again, Iroh shook his head. "You have your father for that. This night is not for me, Prince Zuko. It is for _you_. So stand up proudly, and never forget who you are." He clapped Zuko on both shoulders heartily, and left the young man staring after him.

_Never forget who you are_. Zuko remembered those words – words said to him by his mother over three long years before. The last words that she ever said to him. He wished, for not the first time, that she was standing there next to him. That she was there to see him perform. That she was there to be proud of him.

Zuko took a deep breath. _Don't think about her now_, he commanded himself. _If you do, you'll cry_. _Don't think of her_! He shook his head to clear it. He needed to be clear.

* * *

There was a huge crush of people in the grand plaza where the genbuku was to take place. Scores and scores of torches lit up the night sky around the entire area, and Lan could see thousands of chairs set up in front of the newly constructed stage. The ones in the front, cordoned off from the bulk of the audience, were for dignitaries, friends, and family, including Lan Chi and Iroh. The remainder of the chairs were for ordinary Fire Nation citizenry, so that they could take part in this very important celebration with their prince. The privileged guests were also invited to dinner and dancing at the palace, while the rest of Ozai's subjects in attendance that night were to be treated to a street party with free food and drink.

There was a carnival atmosphere that heightened Lan's anxiety, and she clung to her uncle's arm. Their gifts for Zuko had been given into the care of one of Ozai's social secretaries, whose job was to make certain that Prince Zuko opened each present, and whose job was also to help the Prince write thank you notes to each person. When Lan's present was added to a pile the size of a carriage, she looked at her uncle. "I'm glad I don't have to write that many thank you notes."

Iroh nodded. "It could take months."

They made their way up the crowded aisles to the first two rows, where they found their names written on cards placed on two chairs at the end of one of the rows.

They settled down, and Lan smiled at Iroh. "How did we manage to get such wonderful seats?" They had an unobstructed view of the stage.

Iroh smiled at her like a conspirator. "A bit of cajoling. A bit of threatening."

Lan laughed. "You are incorrigible, Uncle."

"I have been told that."

Just then, Jiao Ao took the seat on the other side of Iroh. He was dressed in a formal robe, and he looked even more austere than usual.

Lan bowed in her seat to her master, and he smiled at her. "Good evening, Lady Lan Chi. You look exquisite."

Lan dimpled. "Thank you, Master."

"Your robe is highly impractical for fighting, however."

Lan tried not to grin. "Yes, Master. That is true."

"Hopefully, you will have no occasion to fight tonight."

"I do hope that you are right, Master Jiao Ao." Iroh chuckled.

As the time for the genbuku drew closer, the seats around them began to fill. All of the Fire Sages arrived together and took seats in the first row, as representatives of their faith, there to bless the proceedings with their very presence.

Lan wished that they could bless the proceedings without their miters. The hats blocked much of her view. She leaned over to her uncle. "I can't see past the Fire Sages." She whispered.

Uncle frowned. "Yes. It is rather difficult. Let me see what I can do." He leaned forward and tapped the High Sage, who was sitting directly in front of him, on the shoulder.

"Pardon me, your eminence, could I please request that you all remove your miters, so those privileged to sit behind you might see?"

The High Sage looked at Iroh with annoyance. "The miter," he sniffed pompously, "is to be removed only upon our deaths."

"Do you want that to be tonight?" Iroh asked pleasantly.

The High Sage's eyes nearly popped from his head. "P – perhaps, in honor of this auspicious occasion, we might remove our miters."

Iroh smiled. "Thank you so much." He sat back and nodded at Lan, who had trouble keeping a straight face.

One by one, the hats came off, and Lan was again rewarded with a clean view of the stage.

She leaned over to Iroh. "I hope that Zuko is not nervous."

Iroh smiled with confidence that he did not feel. "Oh, I am certain that he is _fine_."

* * *

Zuko was not fine, however. He had dressed, as was the custom for genbuku, in a pair of dark red sparring pants cuffed with a small ruffle at the bottom. He was barefoot and shirtless, and around each upper arm, he wore a red leather band. He felt exposed by the skimpy outfit – although he often went shirtless during training, it was a different matter altogether to be so unclothed in front of thousands – and in front of Lan Chi.

He pushed that out of his mind and concentrated on his performance. The swords demonstration would be first, for which he was grateful, since he actually felt more comfortable using blades than he did firebending. Jiao Ao had told him to imagine that he was in his courtyard, training only for his master, and Zuko hoped that such a strategy would help calm his nerves while he was onstage.

From his vantage point from beneath the stage, where the dressing room was, Zuko peered out at the crowd, although he could not really see beyond the front row, filled with the Fire Sages. Zuko made a disgusted sound with his lips – he did not want to see an entire row of sour old men looking at him throughout the night. There was nothing he could do about it, though, so he continued to scan the crowd. He saw a throne set up off to one side, and knew that was where his father would sit. Ozai would enter and sit last, and, after that, Zuko's genbuku would commence.

He turned away from the audience, seeking to calm the nerves that had returned after seeing the vast sea of people. He sank into a lotus position, closed his eyes and attempted to still his mind. He controlled his breathing until it came in regular, even intervals, and he cleared his mind of all distractions, as Uncle had taught him to do. Thoughts of his father disappeared like a wisp of smoke, as did Azula, and Uncle himself. Jiao Ao blew away, and, finally, although stubborn, so did Lan Chi, although Zuko almost regretted the dispersal of her image.

He heard thunderous clapping from outside, and knew that his father had entered the area. He opened his eyes and stood. He was as ready as he would ever be.

* * *

Ozai arrived, as Zuko had predicted, after all other seats were filled. He came up the center aisle, preceded and followed by the faceless royal guard, and then by Princess Azula, who, Lan noted, was dressed much like she herself, in a formal robe with stomacher. Azula's robe, however, was a deep, blood red, which, Lan had to admit, suited her.

Lan came to her feet as Ozai passed, and dipped into a bow, as the thousands of other citizens had done.

Ozai climbed the stairs to the throne, and turned to look out at his subjects, all bowed in reverence to their monarch. He smiled. Azula walked to her seat, a smaller, slightly less ornate chair, at the bottom of the platform.

A master of ceremonies came out onto the stage, and cleared his throat.

"We will now recite the Fire Nation national oath." He said, in a voice startlingly loud.

Everybody in the audience straightened, and all the hands moved into the familiar flame pattern. Thousands of voices repeated the oath along with the master of ceremonies.

"My life, I give to my country. With my hands, I fight for Fire Lord Ozai and our forefathers before him. With my mind, I seek ways to better my country. And with my feet, may our March of Civilization continue." Thousands of voices intoned the pledge in unison, and a thrill ran down Lan's spine at evidence of her country's greatness, alive in the voices of countless.

Ozai inclined his head in acknowledgment, and was seated.

"You may now be seated." The master of ceremonies yelled, and the multitude sat.

The man on the stage looked around at the assemblage. "The Prince, Zuko."

There was earsplitting applause, and none clapped louder than Prince Zuko's uncle and cousin.

Zuko, at the bottom of a set of stairs at the back of the stage, waited until the master of ceremonies came down before ascending. The man gave Zuko a solemn nod, and Zuko nodded in return. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, picked up his broadswords, took a deep breath, and sprinted up the stairs.

As he appeared on the stage, the clapping started again, and he came to a stop, startled at the sheer number of people present, and the din of the applause. He drew another calming breath, closed his eyes for a moment to center himself, and moved to the middle of the stage. The audience was all a large blur to him, and he could see no one behind the row of sages.

He bowed to the crowd, and then to his father, who acknowledged him.

Zuko spun the handles of his swords in his hands to get a better grip, and took a fighting stance. He was ready.

* * *

After the master of ceremonies announced Zuko, Lan's stomach leapt, and she craned her neck to catch a first glimpse of him. When he came onto the stage, the discomfort in her stomach stretched down into her entire lower torso.

She had never seen him without a shirt before, and she was mesmerized, unable to take her eyes off him. His chest was well-sculpted, his waist trim, and his arms muscular. He was – _perfect_. In every way. She fell, if possible, more deeply in love with him. He bowed to the audience and then to his father, and moved into a ready position.

To anyone who did not know him, he would have seemed composed, but to Lan, who had memorized every plane of his face, he appeared ill at ease. However, as he began his forms, the tension left him, and he allowed the pure delight that he felt in the art to shine through, and Lan Chi was mesmerized again.

The entire audience was spellbound, as well, with nary a sound to interrupt the performance.

Lan stole a brief glance at Iroh, whose smile of joy told Lan everything she needed to know about his feelings. Jiao Ao, too, looked especially pleased. She allowed her eyes to drift to Ozai, and the smile she had on her face disappeared.

He was looking, not at Zuko, but at her, with a look of such intense hatred that Lan Chi shrank back in her chair. He turned away from her slowly and back to his son.

Lan put a hand on her chest to quiet her heart, which was beating painfully fast. She took a deep breath, and turned her attention to Zuko again, trying to lose herself in the action.

He was doing exceptionally well – Lan Chi, who was as accomplished in martial arts as Zuko, could tell that his forms were excellent and his skills superior.

He finished the display with a spinning attack that was so fast that it blurred before her eyes, and then he dropped on one knee with both swords brandished above his head.

The applause was instantaneous, and deafening. Lan Chi jumped to her feet, clapping wildly, and that was when Zuko caught sight of her. He stood and bowed, and grinned – directly as her. She blushed, as if she knew the smile was for her, and clapped even more loudly. Iroh, too, and Jiao Ao were on their feet, clapping, and Zuko turned to his father to bow.

Ozai sat in his chair, clapping slowly, but with a somber face. Zuko's smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly. _That's just the way Father is_. _It doesn't mean anything_. _He's clapping_,_ after all_.

He bowed again, and ran from the stage to prepare for the firebending demonstration. He had only a few moments to drink water and lay down his swords, and mentally prepare before he needed to return.

In the audience, Lan was bouncing with excitement. She leaned over Uncle Iroh to Jiao Ao. "Master! He did so well! You must be so proud of him!"

Jiao Ao smiled. "I am. He did an exceedingly good job."

Lan smiled at Iroh, and he squeezed her hand. "You're enjoying yourself, Little Duck?"

She smiled. "Oh, yes. Zuko is _magnificent_, isn't he, Uncle?"

Iroh let out a roar of laughter. "Yes! That he is, Lan! That he is!"

Zuko was ready again. He returned to the stage, and the applause, which had died down, started again. He bowed again to the assemblage and to his father, and quickly assumed a fighting stance.

He launched into a series of complex firebending moves that both thrilled and frightened Lan Chi. The heat from the flames was so hot that Lan could feel it on her face, and she wondered, vaguely, how the Fire Sages, sitting in the front row, were not burned.

His movements were precise and fine, and the fire that he produced was strong and bright, lighting up the sky. Lan was enthralled by it all – despite being a waterbender, she, as a child of the Fire Nation, was fascinated by fire and revered firebenders. And the fact that the firebender she was watching was also the boy that she loved captivated her even more.

She clasped her hands in front of her and stared enraptured as he went through the remainder of his performance, and, when he was done, she jumped up again, as she had done before, and clapped until her palms were sore. Iroh and Jiao Ao were also on their feet, as was much of the audience.

Zuko's face was wreathed in smiles, and he bowed to the audience and to his father one final time before running from the stage.

Lan threw herself at her uncle and hugged him around his shoulders. "Oh, Uncle! It was wonderful! He was wonderful! And you taught him all of that!" She was so happy for Zuko that she was nearly jumping in excitement.

Iroh returned her hug. "Thank you, duck, but I didn't teach him _everything_. He has had other teachers, you know."

"None as good as you, Uncle." She kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, dear."

Lan Chi smiled at Jiao Ao. "Master, wasn't he wonderful?" She knew that she was using the word _wonderful_ quite a bit, but could not think of any other word.

"Yes, he surely was, Lady Lan Chi."

She turned to Iroh. "Can we go to the ball now?"

"Of course."

"Will you walk with us, Master?" She asked Jiao Ao.

"Thank you. It will be my pleasure."

"Are you sure we should not take a palanquin, Lady Lan Chi?" Iroh asked. "Can you manage in your lovely gown?"

"Oh, yes, Uncle! I feel like I could walk to the colonies tonight!"

The three of them started for the ball at the palace. The streets were crowded with merrymakers and party-goers, and the carnival atmosphere that was present before was even more festive. Music was playing, and men, women, and children were laughing and dancing and talking and eating and drinking.

Iroh leaned over to Lan Chi. "I think these people do not know that dancing is forbidden."

Lan's laughter bubbled over. "Isn't this a royally sponsored event?"

"I suppose that it is."

They arrived at the palace quickly, considering the jostling crowds. There was a long queue at the front door, and Lan slipped her hand into her uncle's. "Uncle," she whispered. "We get to use the front door."

He laughed. "It is a magical night, indeed!" He looked askance at the long line. "Come with me. We'll bypass all these people."

Just then, a man in a uniform hailed Jiao Ao.

"Jiao Ao! You old knife sharpener!"

"Bai Song!" Jiao Ao smiled and bowed.

"I have not seen you in years! How have you been?"

"Quite well!" He indicated Iroh and Lan. "May I present to you General Iroh and his niece, Lady Lan Chi Sun? General Iroh, Lady Lan Chi, this is Lieutenant Bai Song. Lieutenant Song –"

"Colonel, now."

"Colonel! It _has_ been a long time. _Colonel _Song and I were in the navy together, many years ago."

Colonel Song bowed to them, and they reciprocated. "General Iroh, I am honored to make your acquaintance. My brother served under you in the Earth Kingdom."

"It's wonderful to meet the family of my men."

Colonel Song bowed again, and turned to Lan Chi. "And are you related to Admiral Yan Sun, my lady?"

"Yes. He was my father."

"I served under him many years ago. He was a great man."

"Thank you." She bowed in gratitude.

Colonel Song smiled. "Jiao Ao, there is an entire group of us sitting together. You remember Stinky Long and Mad Ghuan?"

"Don't tell me that they are here!" Lan could not remember ever seeing a smile of pure happiness on Jiao Ao's face, as there was now.

"Yes!"

Iroh clapped him on the back. "Go and see your friends, Jiao Ao."

Jiao Ao bowed to Iroh and Lan Chi, and was gone.

Iroh smiled at his niece. "Now it's just the two of us, my dear. Let's skip the line."

"How can we do that?"

"I _am_ still a Prince of the Fire Nation, you know!"

"Then, lead on, Prince Iroh."

He did just that, moving them past doors and guards and crowds impatient to enter the ballroom.

They finally reached the ballroom, only to find another line inside, stretching to the reception platform, where Zuko would greet well-wishers – when he arrived. The platform was currently empty.

Iroh patted Lan Chi on the shoulder. "Wait here, Little Duck. I want to go congratulate Zuko before the reception."

"Oh, Uncle, may I go?"

Iroh blushed. "I think not, Lan. He will probably be getting dressed."

Lan blushed even more deeply. "Oh. Then, it's not a good idea."

"No." He smiled gently. "I will be back soon."

"I'll be here."

Iroh left her just inside the door, and she leaned back against the wall to survey her surroundings. The reception platform was set up at one end of the room, but the majority of the ballroom was dedicated to a dance floor ringed by chairs. A band was warming up in a balcony, and Lan swayed as she listened to the music.

She turned her attention to the assembled guests. They were all obviously dressed in their finest clothing, the predominant color of which was, of course, red. Lan looked down at her own robe for a moment, unsure whether it had been a wise idea to wear something so out of the ordinary.

"Well, well, well, Lady Lan Chi. Whatever are you doing here?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Another cliffhanger. Sorry, but this chapter was becoming overlong.

I am glad that I figured out what happened. It's funny, but sometimes this story seems to have a life of its own, and goes in the direction it chooses. Sometimes I feel like the process is a lot like the way Iroh described the creation of lightning, providing "release and guidance" - but in this case, not to lightning, but to the tale.

Anyway, at the beginning of the chapter, we see Zuko echoing the speech he made at the end of _Zuko Alone_, although I added some stuff to it. I hope that it rings true. We also, at last, see Zuko's coming of age, and it was successful! Yeah! Finally, Zuko and Lan have something to celebrate!


	28. Chapter 27

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just clean up after General Fong's brilliant ideas.**

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Note:** Oh, things are getting interesting! Azula teaches Zuko a thing or two, and a secret is spilled...

* * *

That hated voice.

Lan Chi turned around to see three of her least favorite people in the world. Azula stood there, flanked by Mai and Ty Lee. All three girls were dressed in beautiful formal robes – Azula in dark red, Mai in black, and Ty Lee in a lovely rose. Lan had to admit that they all looked – beautiful. She hated them even more.

"I could see you from clear across the room, _Cousin_." Azula sneered the title. "You look like – an egg yolk."

Ty Lee giggled. "More like a stick of butter."

"Or a stick of _something_." Mai's eyes raked Lan Chi from head to toe.

Lan's temper flared, but she smiled sweetly. "You would know all about sticks, Mai – being one yourself."

Mai's eyes narrowed. "Azula, I thought that you said your father was being _selective _about who he invited to the ball."

"Well, obviously not." Lan looked directly at her competitor. "_You're _here."

Just then, one of the Imperial Firebenders, servants to the royal family, came up. "Princess Azula," he bowed to her, "your father requires your presence."

Azula gave Lan one last, appraising look. "Come, girls. I have to see someone who is actually _important_."

The three friends walked away, and Lan, in a immature moment, stuck her tongue out at their retreating backs.

* * *

Iroh walked into his nephew's room without knocking, and found Zuko clad only in his drawers, having just bathed, hair still hanging wet around his shoulders. He smiled when he saw his uncle.

"Uncle!" He took Iroh in a strong embrace, then pulled back. "Did you like the genbuku?" He ran his fingers through his hair several times, drying it by heating his fingers.

"It was marvelous, Zuko. Simply marvelous."

"Thank you." He grinned, pulled his hair back into a queue, and tied it up. "I better get dressed."

Hearing this, an imperial firebender came forward with Zuko's uniform, but Iroh waved him away.

"You can go. I will assist my nephew."

The man nodded his acquiescence, and left.

Iroh held out Zuko's pants, and the young man took them and slid them on.

"Do you really think I did well, Uncle?" Zuko fastened the front of his trousers and took his shirt from Iroh's outstretched hand.

"Yes, indeed, Zuko. As well as any man that I have ever seen."

Zuko looked uncertain. "D – do you think that my father is proud of me?"

"Of course. He is always proud of you."

Zuko's look turned to doubt. "If you say so, Uncle."

"I do." He watched while Zuko buttoned his shirt, and handed him socks.

Zuko sat down on his bed and pulled them on, followed by his boots, which Iroh handed him.

Zuko stood, and next came his body and shoulder armor, which had been newly purchased. Iroh settled the heavy plates on his nephew's torso, and tightened the ties beneath each arm. Zuko obediently held out both arms, and Iroh wrapped his wrist guards on and fastened them. The young man sat back down on the bed, and lifted first one leg, then the other, for Iroh to secure his boots.

Iroh sat down on the bed next to his nephew when he was done. "You know, Zuko, I did this same thing for your father for his genbuku, and for Lu Ten. It is a tradition, you know, for a young man to be dressed by his eldest male relative after his genbuku."

"No, I didn't know that."

"Yes. A man gets his first set of armor for his genbuku, and his father – or his grandfather – _or _his uncle, helps him to put it on."

"Why did you help Father – and Lu Ten, instead of Grandfather?"

"Well, he was Fire Lord, you see, and _much_ too important." He smiled.

"Oh." Zuko looked off into the distance. "Uncle, I need to tell you something."

"What is it, my boy?"

Zuko drew a deep breath. "It's about the night that Grandfather – died. Something happened."

Iroh's blood iced in his veins. He remembered Lan telling him, when she came back from the Academy, about something that happened that awful night – something that she thought he ought to talk to Zuko about, although he had not pursued it since that time. Now, it seems, it was pursuing him. "What happened?"

Zuko was slow in responding. He did not want to be disloyal to his father, but the events of that night had plagued him. "Father wanted an audience with Grandfather, and he brought Mom, Azula, and me along with him. Grandfather got mad – at me – because, well, because I wasn't a very good firebender, and Grandfather sent us all away – everyone but Father." Zuko fell silent, choosing his words carefully. "I was leaving – really, I _was_ – but Azula pulled me behind a curtain, and – well, we _listened_ to Father's conversation with Grandfather."

"Oh?"

"Yes, and Father – Father told Grandfather that," his next words came in a rush, "that, with Lu Ten having – died, that your line was – extinct."

_Extinct_. The very word that Ozai had used with Iroh the day that Iroh had returned.

"Go on." Iroh deliberately kept his voice calm.

"Well, then, Father told Grandfather that he – Father – was here, and that his children – are alive, and that he wanted to help."

"Help? How?" Iroh thought he knew how Ozai wanted to help.

"By – by being Fire Lord." Zuko's voice was very small.

Iroh drew in a deep breath through his nostrils.

Zuko went on. "Grandfather became _very _angry. He said that Dad was being – disloyal, to speak of such a thing right after you had lost Lu Ten. He said that your suffering was over, but that Dad's – Father's – suffering had just begun."

There was a lingering silence, which Iroh finally broke. "What happened next, Zuko?"

Zuko shook his head. "I don't know. I got scared and ran away."

"Oh." He thought that was the end of it.

"But Azula stayed."

"She did?"

Zuko nodded. "Later on, she came to my bedroom, and told me that – that Grandfather had told Dad that, because of Dad's – treachery, that he should know the pain of losing a first-born son. And she said that Grandfather had ordered Father to – to kill me." His last words were weak, and he looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. "She said that Dad was going to do it – was going to kill me."

Iroh wanted to reassure his nephew. "Well, Zuko, we know that's not true, since you are still here."

"But Mom's not."

Iroh thought that he had heard his nephew incorrectly. "I beg your pardon?"

"Mom came into my room and heard Azula, and – and I think she made Azula tell her what Grandfather said."

"And what happened next?"

Zuko shook his head again. "I don't know. Mom came to my room later that night and told me that she had done something – something to protect me. She was wearing the cloak she always wore when she went out at night, but, I was – sleepy, and I didn't notice, and I didn't really understand what she was talking about. And – and I went back to sleep." He shrugged. "And the next day, when I woke up, Grandfather had died, and – Mom had, too. And I don't know what happened, Uncle."

Iroh felt a chill go all the way through him. "Did you tell anyone about this?"

Zuko nodded. "Lan. I told her the night of Grandfather's funeral."

"No one else?"

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have kept this from you for so long. I'm sorry."

"You do not need to apologize. You, of all the people involved, have nothing to be sorry for." He clasped his nephew's hand comfortingly.

The Dragon of the West, who feared nothing on Earth, was suddenly very scared of his baby brother – what he had done, and what he might do.

* * *

Azula found her father in his sitting room. He had just changed for dinner into a lightweight armor, and was enjoying a cup of tea.

She sank to the floor in a show of respect.

"Azula." Ozai took a sip of tea. "I have a task for you."

"I willingly do your bidding, my lord."

"Your brother, Zuko. Keep him away from the Water Tribe whore tonight."

She smiled. "Yes, Sire. It will be my _pleasure_."

* * *

Iroh, although vastly troubled by his nephew's story, knew that tonight was not the time to confront his brother. That time, if and when it came, would not be the the night of Prince Zuko's genbuku. So Iroh, the greatest of diplomats, adept at masking his feelings, pasted a smile on his face, told Zuko that all was well, and went in search of his niece.

He found her sitting in one of the chairs that bordered the dance floor, scuffing her foot on the ground.

"Well, Little Duck! Prince Zuko will be here soon. Would you like to get in the reception line now?"

Lan glanced at the line, which had doubled in length since she had arrived, smiled, and jumped up. "Yes! I've been waiting forever!"

They queued at the end, and Iroh turned to his niece. "Did you sit in that chair the entire time I was gone?"

She looked sheepish. "More or less."

Iroh looked at her wisely. "There is something that you are not telling me."

"Well, I may have seen Azula."

"Ah."

"She started it!"

"She usually does. But as long as you did not come to fisticuffs –"

"I don't think Azula engages in _fisticuffs_, Uncle. She's more of a _set them on fire _sort of person."

Iroh chuckled.

"Did you get to see Zuko?" Lan asked nonchalantly.

"Yes. I helped him dress."

The thought of Zuko without clothes made her blush deeply, and Iroh, despite himself, giggled.

Lan turned to him with wide eyes. "Uncle, did you just – giggle?"

"It happens every so often. Look, there's Zuko." He pointed at the reception platform.

Lan whirled. Sure enough, Zuko had just mounted the platform and was beginng to greet his guests, a smile on his face. Lan's heart jumped. He was dressed now in Fire Nation armor, and Lan thought that he had never looked more handsome. The shoulder armor made him look even broader than usual, and she felt a thrill go through her body, although she could not readily identify the source.

Iroh watched as Zuko bowed and shook hands and smiled and laughed, but his own eyes narrowed. Neither Ozai nor Azula stood next to the boy, as was proper, and Iroh now wished that he himself had consented to stand with him. No one should have to greet guests at his genbuku alone. Yet another thing for which Ozai had to answer.

* * *

It took Iroh and Lan Chi more than a half hour to reach the platform – a half hour in which Lan fidgeted and touched her hair and wiped her hands on her robe – all sure signs, to Iroh, of her nerves.

They mounted the stairs, and finally reached the crown prince. Zuko was just bidding goodbye to a group of well-wishers, and, after they had gone, he turned his attention to his uncle and cousin. Upon recognizing them, his smile changed from polite to genuine. Even though he had been very angry with Lan only days before, upon seeing her, he couldn't be angry anymore.

"Uncle! Lan Chi!" He bowed deeply to them.

Lan, whose face seemed to be permanently red, cast her eyes down briefly before looking at him. "Zuko, you were wonderful earlier." _Wonderful_. There was that word again. Couldn't she think of any other words to describe him?

He blushed, as well. "Thank you. Did you really – like it?"

"It was – wonderful." _Shut up now, Lan Chi_!

Zuko was speechless, nodding. She looked so beautiful, and he did not know what to say.

Iroh took pity on them. "Have you seen Master Jiao Ao yet, Prince Zuko? He was quite pleased with you."

Zuko smiled. "He was here a few minutes ago."

"He was so proud of you, Zuko! So was Uncle." Lan blurted out spontaneously.

"Were _you_?" The words were out of Zuko's mouth before he could prevent them, and he wished he could recall them.

"Oh, yes, Zuko! I was – I am!" Her enthusiasm was so genuine that Iroh wanted to hug her, for it obviously bolstered Zuko's beleaguered ego.

He seemed to sag with relief. "Thank you." It was his turn to cast his eyes down.

"The armor suits you, Zuko." Iroh tried to fill the silence.

His nephew's light eyes came up again. "Thank you, Uncle."

"It does." Lan agreed readily.

"Thank you, Cousin. And your robe – it's so beautiful! The dragon embroidery is – is – lovely!" He finished finally, pointing at the dragon above her breast. Then, realizing where he was pointing, he dropped his finger hurriedly.

Lan, if she noticed his mistake, said nothing. "Thank you. I embroidered it myself."

His eyes goggled. "You did? It's really – beautiful! And I am so glad that you didn't wear red. That was the way I found you in the audience. You were the only one wearing yellow."

"Oh! I'm so glad! I – I didn't want to – blend in, I guess."

Just then, a man behind them cleared his throat significantly, and Iroh took the hint. "We are taking too much of your time, nephew. There are still many people to greet. We will see you in the dining room."

"Oh, yes, Uncle. I'll – see you!"

As they were walking away, Zuko stopped Lan with a hand on her arm. "Will you save a dance for me?"

Lan Chi's eyes slid to her uncle's for a moment, then back to Zuko. "Oh – oh, sure, Zuko. Of course."

He nodded, smiled, released her, and turned to his next guest.

As they walked away, Lan took her uncle's arm.

"You aren't going to dance with him, are you?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. I have no desire to needlessly anger the Fire Lord."

"Good girl." He patted her hand, and began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Watching the two of you – complimenting each other – it was so cute."

She shot him a dark look. "I find that highly ironic coming from the man who has been trying to keep us apart for the past six months."

He shrugged. "I have often been told that I have an inappropriate sense of humor."

* * *

In the dining room, Iroh and Lan gave their names to the servant standing at the door.

"Ah, yes, General Iroh. You are at the family's main table. And Lady Lan Chi, you are at the – um, second children's table."

Lan gave Iroh a knowing look. "Children's table, huh?"

"Shall I complain?" Iroh gave an encouraging smile.

She shook her head. "No. I'll be fine at the children's table. Besides, I think I might lose my appetite at your table."

Iroh laughed. "Perhaps I should sit at the children's table, as well."

Lan smiled crookedly. "Coward."

He gave her a wink as he was led away.

He was taken to a table set high on a platform overlooking the rest of the room, where Ozai's throne sat in the middle. To his surprise, his name was on a card at the right hand of the throne. To his dismay, the two chairs to his immediate right were already occupied – by Li and Lo.

He had avoided the two women since their alarming prophecy months ago, and to now find himself trapped with them was alarming in itself.

He mustered a smile. "Ladies." He bowed and took his seat.

They inclined their heads at the same time. "Iroh." Their voices were in unison, which sent a shiver down their quarry's spine.

"We have seen the work that you have done with Prince Zuko." Iroh was not going to even attempt to identify the speaker.

"You have done a fine job." The other intoned.

"But your task is not complete."

"Yes, it is true." Iroh acknowledged.

"He needs you more than ever."

"And his needs will soon be manifold."

Iroh looked around desperately for something to change the subject. "Ah, tea! Would you ladies like tea?" Without waiting for an answer, he filled their cups. "Tea is one of my favorite things in the entire world. I have always been fond of ginseng tea, but lately, I have found that my tastes run more towards _jasmine_. Of course, lychee is quite tasty as well, although wu long has been piquing my interest lately. It is full-bodied, with a flavorful fragrance and sweet aroma. Because it is semi-fermented, however, it can keep you up at night!" Although aware that he was prattling, he was anxious to keep the women away from making another creepy prediction.

As if in answer to his prayer, Azula mounted the dais, and Iroh's eyes lit up. "Ah, Princess Azula! How lovely you look! I was just speaking to Li and Lo about the merits of different varieties of tea! Would you care to join us?"

Azula looked at him as if he had run mad. "Why ever would I want to talk about _tea_, Uncle? I have never, to my knowledge, discussed tea in my entire life – and I do not intend to start now." She walked past him to the other side of the throne, where her name sat on a chair one seat away from her father.

Iroh dropped his head in despair. There would be no rescue from that quarter – he didn't know why he had expected there to be.

* * *

Lan Chi, in the meantime, was led to a huge table that was already half-filled with boys around her own age and possibly older. To her immediate left was a young man who, when she sat down, glanced at her briefly. His eyes bulged when he saw her hair, but, to his credit, they soon resumed their normal position on his face, and he smiled.

"Hello. I'm Hao Kan Shi." he held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Lan took his hand and gave a brief shake. "Lady Lan Chi Sun." He seemed slightly older than Lan, with sandy hair, and warm, laughing brown eyes.

His brows rose. "Oh. A title. Impressive."

She blushed. "Not really. It's from my father's family. It's not as if _I_ did anything to earn it."

"Still. It's good to have a title. No one in my family does."

"Well, with a title and a copper piece, I can get a cup of tea."

He laughed. "True." He gave a nod of his head to the royal family's table. "How do you know Prince Zuko?"

She colored again. "He's my cousin."

He grinned. "So, not just a title – a _royal_ title."

"Not really. We're not related by blood."

"Oh. Well. This is _my_ cousin," he gave a light slap to the boy beside him, who turned. "Zhen Ku."

"Hi." He smiled at her, and she reciprocated. "Where did you get that crazy hair color?"

She tried not to be self-conscious. "I was born with it."

"Oh." He nodded, accepting her answer. "I was born bald. Crazy, huh?"

"Yeah. Crazy." She gave another small smile. "How do you two know Zuko?"

Hao shrugged. "I don't – my father is a minister in – some department. I don't really know which one. And Zhen's grandfather is a general – of something."

"Oh. That's interesting."

"So..." Hao began. "You got a dance card?"

Lan was taken aback. "Uh – I don't know."

He looked around and pointed at a paper in front of her place setting. "There it is."

She picked it up, and, sure enough, her name was on it. "There it is." She repeated inanely.

He held out his hand, and she gave it to him uncertainly. He picked up a small, thin piece of charcoal from a bowl in the center of the table, scratched his name on her card, and passed it to his cousin, who did the same. Lan blushed, but was very grateful. At least she wouldn't be sitting out _every_ dance.

The dining room had finally filled up, and, after everyone was in their place, Zuko and the Fire Lord were announced.

Everyone stood to applaud, and Lan clapped enthusiastically, although she could see only the top of Zuko's head over all the other guests. She could see him better as he mounted the stairs, and, again, her heart thumped painfully. She laid a hand upon her chest – love was uncomfortable sometimes.

* * *

When Zuko reached the top of the dais, he saw that he was to be seated at his father's left side, next to his sister, and he groaned to himself. Ozai gave him a nod, and they both sat, followed by everyone else in the room.

He craned his neck to look for Lan Chi, but could not pick her out in the sea of people – even in yellow.

Azula gave her brother an insincere smile. "Hello, Zu-zu. Enjoying your genbuku?"

He gave her a brief look of dislike. "I _was_."

"Hmm. Aren't you _charming_?"

"It's a trait that apparently _doesn't _run in the family." He said absently, still searching the room.

"So clever, Brother. But truly, you did a really good job tonight."

He was shocked enough to look at her. "I did?"

"Of course. All those months being trained by our tea-swilling uncle – if nothing else, he is a good firebender. And your swordmaster – what's his name? Ow Ow?"

"Jiao Ao." Zuko corrected stiffly.

"Whatever." She waved her hand blithely. "You did well. You should be celebrating."

He finally found his quarry, and he smiled. "I am." _Now_.

"You should. You should eat – and dance –" Her own gaze swept over the room. "Oh, look. There are Mai and Ty Lee." She waved, and Zuko pulled his eyes from Lan Chi long enough to follow the wave's direction.

Mai and Ty Lee were facing them, sitting at a nearby table with several other people about their ages. Ty Lee waved back but Mai looked bored.

Zuko frowned. "What are they doing here? I thought I told you they couldn't come."

She smiled sweetly. "Dad said they could ."

Zuko groaned, and Azula gave him a sidelong glance.

"Don't you think Mai is looking particularly _fetching_ tonight, Zuko?"

He shrugged. "I suppose."

"I told her to wear black. It complements her creamy complexion so well, doesn't it?"

Zuko took another look. Mai _did_ look pretty. She was a good-looking girl – that was what had attracted him to her in the first place. She was slim and willowy, with straight, thick, black hair, and tonight, dressed in black, she was prettier than usual.

"Yes, it does."

"She's so pretty, isn't she?"

Zuko gave a grunt.

"Are you going to dance with her tonight?"

Dance with Mai? He had not thought of it. He planned to dance with Lan Chi, but had given dancing no thought beyond that. "I don't know."

Azula smiled. "I think you should. Where's your dance card?"

"Why should I have a dance card? Girls have dance cards, not boys."

"Not at your genbuku, dum dum. _You're_ the guest of honor – so you get a card, too. All the girls have to compete for _your_ attention."

"Oh."

Azula saw his card and snatched it from the table. "I'll be right back." She pushed her chair back, and sprinted away.

"What? No, come back." He hissed at her, but she ignored him, and he groaned. He was _not _going to chase her from the dais.

Stupid sister.

* * *

During this time, as the meal began to arrive, Iroh's thoughts were whirling. He ran over in his head, again and again, what Zuko had told him earlier. He did not know exactly what to make of it – especially the part related to Azula and Ursa. And, of course, he could ask neither of them. It bore additional reflection – but at a time and place where he could concentrate – when his brother was _not _sitting a foot away.

He decided to tackle a different subject – one that Ozai would probably not appreciate, either. "I noticed, Brother, that you were not in the reception line with your son."

Ozai, who had been served first, continued to eat unconcernedly. "Do I sense a rebuke, Iroh?"

"It is traditional for the boy's father to stand with him."

"I thought that was the role _you_ wanted."

Iroh turned slightly red. "_You_ are his father."

"Yes. To my unending chagrin."

Iroh stole a look at his nephew to determine if he had heard Ozai, but, luckily, Zuko was involved in a discussion with Azula. "Zuko is a wonderful, bright, _brave _young man, Ozai. You should be proud of him." His voice was pitched low so that only his brother could hear him.

Ozai gave a bark of laughter. "Oh, yes. He is a _paragon_."

Iroh, rarely at a loss for words, was silent. There were actually many words that he could say to Ozai, but few were appropriate for dinner conversation. What he actually wanted to do was cuff his brother on the back of his head and tell him to grow up, but that was not possible. Ozai was long past discipline.

* * *

Azula came back to Zuko, a triumphant look on her face. "Look, Zu-zu! I got your entire card filled up!" There was mischievous glee on her face.

"What?" Zuko grabbed the card from her hand and peered at it. She was right – every single dance was claimed. "There's not even one empty dance!"

"You are more popular than I thought."

He saw Azula's name scribbled at the top of the card. "You? Why am I dancing with you first?"

Her eyes became innocent. "Well, _Father_ did want us to dance – and I thought the first was probably the most appropriate. It's the battle victory dance."

"Fine," Zuko grumbled. "But who is this? And this? And this?" He indicated three names. "I don't even _know _these girls!"

"Well, you will by the end of the night, won't you?"

He set his jaw stubbornly. "I am _not _going to dance with them! Or Ty Lee!"

"But they're _so _excited, Zuko! You don't want to disappoint them, do you?"

He gave an aggrieved sigh. "Why is Mai on here _twice_?"

Azula smiled. "Because she likes you. And because you said she was pretty."

"What? I did not! _You _said that! You didn't tell her I said that, did you?"

"I wasn't supposed to?" Her voice was guileless.

"Argh!" Zuko balled his fist in frustration. "Well, I _need_ one dance open, so I am not going to dance with her twice."

Azula's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why do you need a dance open?"

Zuko's eyes took on a hunted look – he did not want Azula to know that Lan Chi had promised him a dance. "I – I might need to rest."

She was incredulous. "Rest? Dancing is not _strenuous _exercise. I am certain that you can manage to get through _seven_ dances without a sickbed."

Zuko's look was thunderous, but he said nothing. He would simply scratch Mai's name off later, and dance with Lan then.

"Oh, look, Zu-zu. Noodles!"

Waiters had placed the first course before them, and Azula dug in with gusto. Zuko ate sullenly, and Azula,around a mouthful of noodles, smiled secretively.

* * *

Lan Chi was surprised that she had filled six of the seven slots on her dance card, and even had the opportunity to fill the last, although she had declined the nice boy who asked her, telling him that she was saving a dance for Iroh. He accepted it with good grace, and no questions. All the dances were engaged by boys at her table, and it was then that Lan realized that there was only one other girl at a table of fifteen. She wondered if it was by design – Ozai throwing her at other boys. If so, she did not really mind. She had had little enough experience with boys, and so should have felt more awkward,but she did not. They were surprisingly easy to talk to.

Lan took the precaution of writing Iroh's name in the one empty space on her dance card. She did not even know if Iroh would dance with her, although she knew of no reason why he should not, but she thought that she could use one dance during which she would not have to make small talk.

* * *

Small talk was the last thing on Zuko's mind, as well. At this point, he wanted to escape his sister, who was continuing to be overly nice to him. Overly, _suspiciously _nice.

She was watching him almost constantly, a smile on her face, and it was _unnerving_. He tried to distract himself, so he turned his thoughts to Lan.

"So, Zuko, are you going to kiss her?"

He had not been paying much attention, so he shrugged. "I don't know. I might." His mind finally registered her words. "Wait. What?"

She leaned on her hands. "You don't need to be _shy_. I know you've kissed Mai before. She told me."

"Sh – she did?"

Azula nodded. "But, you know, Zu-zu, you're both older."

Zuko was confused. "So?"

"So? You're not _children_ anymore. After all, you're a _man_ now. You can kiss her with your tongue – I'm sure she'll like it."

Zuko's eyes opened very wide. "Wh – wh – what?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. "Don't you know _anything_? Men and women – when they _really_ like each other – that's how they kiss."

"Wi – with their _tongues_?" he asked, skeptical.

"Yes. Honestly! How old are you, anyway? They stick their tongues into each other's mouth!"

Zuko reddened. "I – I knew that."

She clearly did not believe him.

* * *

Lan Chi enjoyed dinner – the meal was good, and the companions pleasant, and she wondered if Zuko was enjoying himself, as well. She was seated facing away from the royal family's table, so she could not see him unless she turned around completely or stood, and, since both would cause comment, she did neither and hoped that he was.

As dinner wound down, she could hear the band starting to play a song. Many of those at her table began to chafe to move back to the ballroom, and waited impatiently for Ozai to rise and indicate that it was permissible to leave the room.

He finally did, followed by Zuko, and the dining room rose in response. The Fire Lord and his son started for the ballroom, followed by Azula, Iroh, and finally, Li and Lo, moving much more slowly. As Zuko passed close to Lan Chi's table, he smiled at her, then started when he realized that she was surrounded almost entirely by boys. A frown pulled his face down, and he looked daggers at the young men. She saw the change in his expression, and felt inexplicably guilty for a moment. However, when his eyes moved back to hers, she smiled reassuringly at him, and his face cleared.

After he and the rest of the royal party had left the room, the the party-goers started to follow. Hao grabbed Lan's hand unexpectedly. "Come on. We don't want to miss the first dance!"

* * *

**Author's Note**: Someone should have told Zuko not to take romantic advice from Azula.


	29. Chapter 28

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just scrub the dirt from between Appa's and Oogi's toes.**

* * *

Lan and Hao arrived in the ballroom as the first dance was starting, so they lined up with the other dancers. Lan saw Zuko partnered with his sister, and had to stifle a laugh. He looked more uncomfortable than she had ever seen him.

As she was following the intricate steps with Hao, she looked up to see Zuko's eyes on her. They were calculating and cold, and they made _her _feel uncomfortable. She turned her back on him deliberately.

"You're a good dancer," Hao remarked as he turned her in a circle.

"Thank you. My uncle paid for a dancing master."

Hao laughed. "Honest, aren't you?"

She smiled. "I _try_ to be." _Just not all the time_.

"Does that mean you don't always succeed?"

"It means it's an ongoing project."

"So, do you live in the capital?"

"I live here."

His eyes bulged again. "At the palace?"

She blushed. She had probably said too much. "I live with my uncle."

"Your uncle the Fire Lord?" He indicated Ozai, sitting on yet another throne, on the reception platform.

It was her turn to laugh. "The Fire Lord is not my uncle."

The music ended then, and they clapped. Lan bowed to him. "Thank you for the dance. It was fun."

He smiled and bowed. "Yeah. It was."

The band struck up the next tune, and her next partner came to her and bowed. "This is my dance."

It was the palace dance, which was a line dance in which couples switched partners throughout.

She stood across from him, waiting for the measure that began the dance, but, before it started, she was jostled by someone. She turned to find a girl she had never seen before wedge herself in, guided by her partner. _Zuko_!

His face was bitter, and she sighed to herself.

The dance began, and Lan stepped in towards her partner. She circled him, and stepped back into line. Her partner then stepped out at the same time as Zuko's, and they circled one another. They stepped back into place, and it was Lan's turn to step out with Zuko.

As they circled each other, he whispered to her. "Is that one of the boys you've _kissed_?"

A frown settled on her face. "Jealous?"

"No." He said as he stepped back.

She sighed. This was a Zuko she didn't know, and she didn't like. But she also had no one to blame but herself, really. She had as good as told him that she was fickle and had been giving her affections away freely.

She waited until the pattern of the dance brought them back together. "I lied."

He looked confused as he circled her. "What?"

"When you came for tea – I lied."

They stepped away and came back together again, and she continued. "I've never kissed any other boy, but you."

A huge smile split his face. "Really?"

She had to wait until the music brought them back together again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth."

He had to take her fingers at this point, and Lan's pulse jumped. "Do you have any dances free?"

She thought immediately of Iroh's dance, which she had not even told her uncle about. "The fifth dance. But I'm not dancing with you. Uncle's veins would pop."

He looked around to determine if anyone was listening before speaking. "The fifth dance is right after a break. Meet me outside at the fountain in the courtyard."

They had to wait until the dance brought them back together for Lan to speak. "Could you be more specific, please? There are at least twenty fountains."

He smiled. "At my old house. You know the one."

She blushed. She had fallen in love with him by that fountain. "Yes, I know."

"You'll be there?"

"Against my better judgment, yes."

He smiled as they separated, a dazzling smile that caused her to miss a beat and step on her partner's foot as she turned. "Sorry. This isn't my best dance." She apologized.

The boy looked pained.

* * *

There was a break after the second dance, as well – a time for drinking punch and socializing, and, although Zuko would have liked to have remained at Lan Chi's side, she refused.

"Go away! Your father is looking over here!"

Zuko glanced at the throne, and saw that Lan was right, so he grabbed his dance partner's hand and dragged her to the punch bowl.

He thrust a cup in her hand. "You look thirsty."

The girl, named Da Wei, in the same year as Azula at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, had recognized Lan Chi, and had also noticed how she and Zuko had been whispering to each other during the dance. "Is – is Lady Lan Chi your girlfriend, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko, who had been peering over her head at Lan, was drawn back by that question. "What? No! Why do you ask?" He was alarmed.

"You kept whispering to her, and you looked kind of mad sometimes."

"Oh. No. She's – just my cousin. Nothing else, really."

"Oh." Da Wei nodded. "I – I just wanted to say how fun it was to dance with you. And that you did really well at your genbuku."

He looked at her for the first time. She was actually a pretty girl, with dark brown hair and eyes, and a kind face – and he hadn't even noticed.

He smiled at her. "Thanks."

* * *

Lan Chi was right. Ozai had been watching them. In fact, he had been watching Lan Chi the entire night. He had watched her at the genbuku – had seen the way she looked at Zuko. He had seen the expression on Zuko's face when Zuko had smiled at Lan Chi in the audience. And Ozai had not been pleased.

It was for this reason that he had charged Azula with keeping them apart. She, unlike Zuko, knew her place in the world. And, if Zuko did not soon learn _his_, Ozai would have to take drastic steps.

* * *

Lan bid her partner good-bye and went in search of Iroh, whom she had not spoken to since before dinner. She found him sitting with a group of older men, all dressed in military uniforms. She bowed before them.

"Ah, Lady Lan Chi!" Iroh smiled and beckoned her close. "I was just telling these men how talented you are."

"Thank you, Uncle. I'm sure you were exaggerating."

He gave a low laugh. "Perhaps just a little. Let me present you to General Ling. He is the commander of the Yu Yan Archers."

She turned wide eyes on the man Iroh indicated, and bowed deeply. "It is my honor to meet you, Sir. I studied with the Yu Yan when I was younger."

"Ah, yes, I recall Colonel Shinu telling me about you. You are indeed talented, aren't you?"

She blushed. "Thank you."

"I understand that you have met my grandson, Hao Kan."

Lan registered surprise. "He was at my dinner table – and I just danced with him!"

General Ling nodded and smiled. "He is a good boy. When he leaves the Academy, he is going straight into the army. We expect great things from him."

"I am sure he will do great things – he has his grandfather and father to set him a good example." Iroh smiled, and turned to Lan Chi. "Are you enjoying the dancing, Lady Lan Chi?"

A thought dawned on Lan, and she squinted at her uncle. "Uncle, do all of your friends have grandsons?"

He colored. "One or two, perhaps."

She shook her head, but leaned over and kissed Iroh's cheek. "Thank you, Uncle." She said softly.

* * *

Zuko's third dance was the first of two dances with Mai. It was the courtship dance, and, although Zuko would have much preferred to dance it with Lan, he had to admit that Mai was a good dancer. He stole looks at Lan Chi and her partner throughout the dance, and, although he tried not to be jealous, he was.

Ever since his last fight with Lan, he had tried to _not_ think of her words. _I've kissed a lot of boys_. Those words haunted him, and, even though, in the end, his feelings for her had not changed, he had known long hours of jealousy. But Zuko, resilient and stubborn, had decided not to give up. He had vowed that, one day, she would be his, and _she would be_. He was determined.

That didn't mean that he wanted to see the girl he loved dancing with another boy. But, then again, he admitted as he clasped Mai's wrist, Lan probably didn't like seeing him with Mai.

"You did really well tonight, Zuko." She said, interrupting his thoughts.

He smiled slightly. "Thanks."

"I was really glad when you invited me."

He knew he should tell her the truth – he knew that he should tell her that there was no chance for them – but he also knew that it would cost him nothing to be kind. "I'm glad you could come."

* * *

When the music finally ended after the fourth dance, Lan Chi thanked her partner and made her way towards the ladies' powder room. She thought that she could make a safe escape to the courtyard that way. Although there were several ladies and a few girls lingering about the door, she was able to slip out without exacting comment.

She had been worried that guards would try to stop her as she walked to the courtyard she sought, but she discovered that there were quite a few guests milling about, and the guards took no notice of her. She looked over her shoulder several times to make sure that there was no one following her, and, to her relief, she saw no one.

She finally reached the courtyard without incident. It appeared to be deserted, and she walked with trepidation to the fountain. She had thought, for some reason, that Zuko would be here before her.

_Maybe he isn't coming_._ Maybe his father found out_.

Hands came up from behind her and over her eyes. "Guess who?" A voice, low and throaty, whispered in her ear.

She smiled with his hands still blinding her. "You shouldn't sneak up on me. I am a trained warrior." She turned, and his hands slid down to cup her face. He was smiling, too, but the smile disappeared as he leaned in to touch his lips to hers.

Her heart fluttered within her chest, and she tentatively brought her arms around his torso. With his armor on, she could not get very close to him, but it was much closer than she had ever been.

After a satisfying interval, he pulled away. "I've missed you so much."

"Me, too." Why did her language skills always dissipate whenever he was around?

"Did you have trouble getting away?"

She shook her head wordlessly, simply drinking in the sight of him in the light of the moon and of the torches scattered throughout the courtyard. By the spirits, she didn't think she would ever tire of looking at him.

"Who are those boys you were dancing with?" He tried to make his voice nonchalant.

"They were at my table. I think that Uncle convinced them to ask me to dance."

"I doubt it."

"Why?"

"Who wouldn't want to dance with you? You're the most beautiful girl at the ball."

She blushed. "Zuko..."

He interrupted her. "I want to show you something."

She nodded, and he took her hand to lead her to a door in the wall that was almost completely obscured with vines.

"I've never seen this door! Where does it lead?"

"Patience." He tugged it open, and pulled her through.

They were in the palace gardens, a place that Lan Chi had only been a handful of times. "The gardens are this close to Uncle's house?"

"Mm-hmm." He grinned at her. "I know this palace like the back of my hand."

A multitude of flower beds stood in rows, and, although winter, the capital was close enough to the equator that most of the plants stood in full flower.

"Come here." He led her to a bed directly in the middle of the gardens, where a dozen rose bushes were covered in blooms. He held one of the blossoms for her to smell.

She obliged, and drew deeply of its scent. It was sweet, with faint overtones of anisette and fresh tobacco.

"It smells wonderful."

"Can you see the color?"

"Not very well."

"Here." He brought a small flame from his hand. The rose was large and many petalled, with a deep, rusty bronze color.

"It's beautiful." She looked at him, and noticed that his face was unusually somber. She put a hand on his cheek. "Zuko, what is it?"

The flame he held went out, and he brought his hand came up to cover hers. It was still warm. "It's called the Princess Ursa rose."

"Oh, Zuko."

"The gardeners have been cultivating it for years. It's funny, because she always wore that shade of red. Always." His voice was thick with tears.

She brought her other hand up to frame his face. "Zuko. I'm so sorry." She stood on her toes to kiss him, her lips soft against his.

His hands drifted to her waist, and he brought her close to him. He slanted his face to deepen the kiss, but, thinking better of it, he pulled away, but did not release her. "You are so beautiful." He whispered.

"So are you." Her voice was wispy.

He chuckled and released her. "I want to give you something." He grasped a rose by the stem and heated his fingers until the stem burned away. He tucked the flower into her hair, and smiled. "Now you're even more beautiful."

Even though she wanted nothing more than to stay there with him, reason got the better of her. "We should get back to the ballroom. The dance is probably over."

"When can I see you again?"

"I don't know. Uncle still won't like it."

"I'm starting to not care who will and won't like it."

"Zuko – don't say that. You know it's not true."

"It's my life, Lan Chi – not Uncle's or Father's or Azula's."

"I know, but –"

"Don't you want to see me again?"

"Of course, but –"

"Too many _but's_. I'll find a way. And _soon_. I promise." He gave her a swift kiss, and grabbed her hand. "Let's go."

* * *

Zuko's absence did not go unnoticed by those in the ballroom. However, he was not the only person whose presence was missed.

Princess Azula was dancing with her partner, a very handsome boy she thought was potential boyfriend material, and she was enjoying herself. So, when Ty Lee hissed at her from the edge of the dance floor, Azula very pointedly ignored her.

"Azula! Azula!" Ty Lee's whisper was not quiet.

Azula continued to pretend Ty Lee was not there, until her partner sighed. "Princess Azula. I think your friend wants your attention."

"Don't look at her. She'll go away."

"Azula!" Ty Lee was hopping up and down. Azula rolled her eyes.

"Fine. One minute." She stomped over to the other girl. "What do you _want_?"

"This is my dance with Zuko, but I can't find him."

She was instantly alert. "Oh, really? Is anyone else missing?"

"Yes. Mai! Her partner's standing over there." She indicated a portly boy looking around anxiously.

Azula smiled. "Well, there you have it. They're together."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Zuko was talking about kissing Mai earlier. He's probably taken her outside."

"But I was supposed to dance with Zuko."

"Just dance with Mai's partner. He looks –" she hesitated. "Perfectly presentable."

Ty Lee looked unconvinced. "I don't know."

Azula sighed. "Well, do what you like. I'm going back to my partner."

* * *

Lan and Zuko returned to the ballroom separately, just as the fifth dance was ending. Lan's partner for the sixth dance, Zhen Ku, found her quickly, and they found a spot on the floor.

Zuko's partner was the third of the three girls he didn't know, but he bowed graciously to her and led her onto the dance floor with a smile. He couldn't prevent the smile; he was happier than he had been in a long, long time. His genbuku had been a success, and the girl he loved liked him back. He wanted to think that she loved him as he loved her, and he was almost one hundred percent certain that she did, but neither had said it to the other yet. He had been very tempted to tell her tonight, but the last time that he had attempted it, she had panicked. He did not want to spook her again – there would be time enough to tell her of his feelings. After all, they had the rest of their lives.

Lan, too, was in a good mood, and she smiled and laughed at every silly thing that her partner said. Her lips still tingled from Zuko's kisses, and she could still taste him there.

"That's a pretty rose in your hair." Zhen said. "Where did you get it?"

She shrugged. "The gardens."

"Oh. It's nice."

She smiled again. "Thanks."

The dance ended, and she bowed to her partner. "Thank you. It was fun."

"It _was_ fun." The boy blushed. "Do you – maybe – want to go out – for tea some time – or something?"

Lan blushed in response, and searched her mind for an excuse. "Thanks – that's really nice of you – but my uncle – doesn't really let me date yet."

He looked disappointed. "Oh. Okay. That's okay. Maybe – some other time."

She smiled as they walked off the dance floor.

Zuko, who had been watching Lan Chi throughout, started moving towards her as the dance ended, and heard Zhen's words. His face darkened. His shoulder dipped, and he slammed into Lan's partner.

The poor boy staggered to the side, and Lan whirled to see Zuko cover up a smirk.

"Oh, I am _so _sorry." Zuko was all apologies. "I did not see you." He bowed to the other boy, and then to Lan Chi, with a knowing smile on his face. "Lady Lan Chi. Wonderful to see you. Have you been having a pleasant evening?"

"I _was_, Prince Zuko – until you nearly crippled my partner." Despite her harsh words, she smiled at him.

He bowed to her again. "Then I beg _your_ pardon, as well, _my lady_." His emphasis on the last two words did not escaped Lan Chi's attention. She felt a thrill go through her – _my lady_. She liked the idea of belonging to him. It was – nice.

Zhen straightened his uniform. "It's quite all right, your highness. Congratulations on your genbuku."

He inclined his head. "Thank you."

Just then, Mai came up. "The next dance is starting, Zuko." Her eyes slid to Lan Chi.

Lan was miffed that Mai did not use his title when speaking to him in public – it was a little too familiar. Still, she was too level-headed to shove the other girl, as she itched to do, so she contented herself with a nod and a smile, and walked off.

Zuko watched her for a brief moment, but, cognizant that Mai was staring at him, he turned to her and proffered his arm.

When the dance ended, Zuko thanked Mai, led her from the dance floor, and went in search of his uncle.

Azula was very dissatisfied with her last partner, who had sweaty palms and who had stepped on her foot. As she gladly left him, she saw Zuko, with a smile, departing from Mai, and, with a smile of her own, Azula headed over to see her friend. She slipped her arm through the older girl's, and drew her away.

"So. You're welcome."

Mai frowned slightly. "I should be thanking you?"

"Of course. For sending Zuko your way."

"For two dances? I guess I can say "thank you.""

Azula looked at her as if she were crazy. "Two dances? What about sneaking outside during the fifth dance? Didn't he kiss you? I told him to."

Mai stopped. It was her turn to look at her friend as if she were crazy. "I wasn't outside with Zuko."

Azula was puzzled and annoyed. "Well, where were you during the fifth dance?"

"I was in the bathroom. Some stupid boy spilled an _entire_ glass of punch on me. I was cleaning up." She held out her skirts, which did look stained.

Azula's eyes narrowed in thought. If her brother wasn't with Mai during that time, where was he?

She had a suspicion – one that did not please her – and one that would definitely _not_ please her father.

* * *

Zuko found his uncle where he had been all evening – sitting with his cronies, swapping tales of glory days. Zuko bowed to all of them at one time, and turned to Iroh anxiously. "Uncle, I think it's almost time for the tribute ceremony. Are you ready?"

Iroh looked at him blankly. "Tribute ceremony?"

Zuko became concerned. "The tribute ceremony! The toast!"

Recognition dawned. "Toast! Oh, yes, the _toast_! Of course."

Zuko's eyes widened. "Y – you did prepare a toast, didn't you?"

"Of course I did! I've had it written – for days!"

His nephew gave a relieved smile. "Thank you, Uncle. I will see you in the dining room."

"Yes! Yes, my boy! I will see you in there – soon." When Zuko was gone, Iroh gritted his teeth. _The toast_! How could he have forgotten to write the toast?

As if on cue, a servant announced that the tribute ceremony would take place in ten minutes in the dining room. Iroh gave a weary sigh. He had ten minutes in which to compose a stirring, heartfelt toast to his only nephew.

* * *

Upon the announcement of the tribute ceremony, Lan Chi decided to visit the powder room. When she reached it, she wished she had made the decision earlier, because it seemed that every woman at the party had the same idea at the same time.

She sighed, and queued up. Several minutes passed, and she began to fret that she would miss the toast entirely. She was just about to give up and leave, when she froze. Azula, coming out of the powder room, had seen her, and was coming directly over.

She stopped in front of Lan Chi, her arms crossed over her chest. "What is that in your hair?"

Lan's hands flew up to her head – what was Azula talking about? _The rose_!

"Is that my mother's rose?"

Lan held her chin up, but did not speak.

"Where did you get that?" Azula's voice was dangerously calm.

Again, Lan Chi was belligerently silent.

Azula gave her a dark look, but said nothing, and turned on her heel and marched away.

* * *

Lan Chi finally made it back to her dining table, already filled with all of its other occupants. Hao gave her a smile as she sat down.

The dinner debris had been cleared, and tea and plates of cookies had been left on all the tables for the tribute ceremony.

Everyone in the room rose as the royal family entered and resumed their own places on the dais. Everyone sat again as servants scurried to all the tables to pour tea, After the servants retreated, Iroh smiled, stood up, and cleared his throat. He looked around expectantly at the audience, and then smiled broadly at Zuko, whose face was lit with happiness.

"This is the third time that I have been given the honor of presenting the tribute at a genbuku. You old folks may remember my baby brother Ozai's genbuku, many years ago." He smiled at Ozai, who looked displeased at being called _baby brother_. "In fact, some may remember it better than others. How's the arm, Kahchi?" Iroh called out jovially.

A voice from the back of the room responded. "Better!" This elicited loud laughter from most of the adults, although Ozai's frown deepened.

"And still more of you may remember my beloved Lu Ten's genbuku, ten years ago." Iroh's voice became strangled with emotion. "May the spirits ease your flight into their world, my son."

Lan's eyes filled with tears, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

Iroh shook his head as if to clear it, and smiled again. "But tonight is a happy occasion. A night to celebrate my nephew, Zuko. Those of you who know Zuko well, know that he is a kind, generous, intelligent, trustworthy young man. He displays loyalty, honesty, and honor at all times – traits well befitting a future Fire Lord. I am certain that his reign will be marked by prosperity and integrity." Iroh picked up his tea cup and held it aloft. "Please be up standing for my nephew."

Chairs scraped back, and all in the room rose. They lifted their tea cups in imitation of Iroh.

Iroh turned to his nephew and raised his cup higher. "I give you our prince, Zuko!"

"Our prince, Zuko!" Hundreds of voice gave the tribute in unison before drinking.

Lan looked at Zuko, who was standing, as well. He bowed to his uncle, and to his father, who had remained seated throughout, as was his right, although Lan thought that it would have been _nice_ if he had risen for his own son.

"Thank you so much, Uncle. I have been so fortunate to have you as my teacher. You have taught me so much." He smiled, and bowed to the audience. "And I would like to thank all of you, for coming. I am so humbled and honored by your presence." His voice was strong. "Truly."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I hope that you liked this chapter. It was actually rather hard to get through, because my mind has already jumped forward to the events leading to the agni kai. BUT, there were loose ends I had to start wrapping up in this chapter, so I had to persevere. I just hope I didn't forget anything, because it is quite a tangled web that Ozai weaves...


	30. Chapter 29

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just sell curios to pirates – at a most reasonable price. **

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes**: Things don't always/ever go well for Zuko...

* * *

After the tribute ceremony had ended, the royal party departed, and the affair broke up. Iroh returned to the dining room and found Lan at her table. He held his arm out. "Come, Little Duck. Time to go home. This old man is tired."

She tucked her hand into his elbow and they began the walk back to their quarters. "You are not old, Uncle."

He chuckled. "Yes, my dear. I am _old_."

They passed through a set of doors attended by guards. "Well, you look young and vibrant to me."

"_Y__ou_ are in a good mood."

She dimpled. "Perhaps."

"Does it have anything to do with that rose in your hair?"

She looked surprised. "Monkeyfeathers! I keep forgetting about that flower!"

"It was a gift, I presume?" They passed through into the family's private quarters.

She blushed. "Perhaps."

"Hmmm."

"Are you angry?"

"Were you caught?"

"Azula did recognize the flower."

"Oh, dear." He patted her hand. "Well, we'll just have to wait to see if she says anything."

"If I know Azula, she'll say something."

"I am not so sure. The one thing that I know about Azula is that she is always surprising me."

"In a good way or a bad way?"

Iroh considered this for a moment. "Generally a bad way."

"Oh." Lan was slightly more worried now.

As if reading her thoughts, Iroh squeezed her hand. "Don't fret so. Whatever occurs, I will be on your side."

"What of your bargain with Ozai?"

"I have determined that it is _not_ such a bargain."

She leaned her head on his arm as they walked. "It is all such a _mess_, Uncle. What should I do?"

"I don't know, Little Duck. I wish that I did."

* * *

Zuko whistled as he walked back to his room. He was blissful; everything had gone right tonight. He had done exceptionally well at his genbuku, and he had kissed Lan Chi – not once, but several times. He couldn't wait to see her again. He wanted to kiss her and touch her and talk to her. He wanted to hold her hand, and hear her laugh, and – and so many other things! He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and he wanted it to start now!

He slowed as he reached his room – a guard stood there, and he wondered what had occasioned his presence. The man bowed when he saw the prince.

"Prince Zuko. The Fire Lord requires your presence in the throne room."

Zuko was surprised – but pleased. Father wanted to see him! Maybe he wanted to congratulate him on his genbuku – in person.

Zuko nodded his thanks and turned for his father's throne room. The guards posted outside opened the door for him, and, after he passed through, closed them again.

The throne room, as always, was in darkness but for the flames in front of the throne. Zuko approached the throne with confidence, bolstered by the self-assurance that the night had brought him.

He prostrated himself before his father, forearms on the floor.

"Prince Zuko." Ozai's voice was flat and emotionless.

"Good evening, Sire." Zuko's voice was muffled, coming, as it did, from against the floor.

"Your genbuku was a success."

Zuko smiled, although his father could not see it. "Thank you, my lord." His heart swelled with pride at this praise, faint though it was. It was among the only times that his father had actually congratulated him without reservation.

"Mostly."

Zuko raised his head. "M – my lord?"

"Your uncle was – insolent, as usual."

Zuko did not know what to say.

"And your conduct around the Water Tribe girl was – disgraceful."

"Father, I don't – I don't understand."

"I saw you dancing with her."

Zuko's stomach dropped. "She – she was in my set, Sire. And I could not – snub her! She is Uncle's daughter! And my cousin!"

Ozai gave a sound of disgust. "She is no blood of Iroh's. And certainly no blood of yours!"

Zuko smarted at that – he heard the tone of disdain in his father's voice, and his own next words were poorly chosen. "Then we should have no problem with the laws of consanguinity should I decide to marry her."

Ozai's face deformed with anger. "_What_? Have you run mad? You are _my _son – son of the Fire Lord! You will marry _when_, and _where_, and _whom_ _**I**_ say! And it will never be with that whore!"

"_Don't call her that_!" His voice was shriller than he would have liked.

"You _dare_ to reprimand me?" Ozai was nearly apoplectic in his anger.

Zuko saw his strategic error immediately. "My – my lord! I apologize! I merely meant that such a comment is – ill befitting a monarch such as yourself!"

Ozai stood. He extinguished the flames and came down the stairs, his eyes glittering with quiescent rage. Zuko started to scoot back on his knees, suddenly scared.

Ozai reached down, grasped his son by his shoulder armor, and lifted him until they were at eye level and the boy's feet dangled beneath him. Because of the loose ties that held the armor to his body, Zuko slid down inside it until only his eyes were visible.

He shook his son. "Do you know, Prince Zuko," he asked, his voice low and menacing, "what ill befits a monarch such as myself? To see my son sniffing around that mongrel like she is a _bitch_ in heat." With a twisting motion, Ozai tossed the prince through the air, and he landed heavily on the side of his head, his armor striking him against the side of his face. For the second time that week, Zuko lay stunned. He stirred after a few moments, and lurched to a sitting position, to find his father staring at him.

"You brought this upon yourself, Prince Zuko. Do not challenge me again. You will regret it." He returned to his throne.

As Zuko stood, he felt a warm trickle on his face and reached up. His nose was bleeding. He wiped the blood on his pants, and made a low bow to his father before leaving.

As he passed through the antechamber, he met Azula, who had also been called in to see their father. Her eyes widened at the blood on his face. "Zuko! What happened?"

"Leave me alone." He pushed past her and was gone.

Dragging her eyes from the door where he had disappeared, she turned and entered the throne room, and, much like Zuko, she bowed down in front of her father's throne.

"Well, Princess Azula? Were you successful? Did your brother meet with Lady Lan Chi?"

Azula thought of the rose, of Zuko's disappearance during the dance, and of the blood on his face. "No, my lord. Not to my knowledge."

* * *

Zuko returned to his room and slammed the door. His head ached and blood stained his new uniform, and his night was _ruined_. _Ruined_! And he had no one to blame but himself! How could he have been so _stupid_ – not only did he betray his plans, but he _talked back to him_! Zuko did not blame Ozai's reaction – he had been disrespectful and impudent to his father. He deserved what had happened. It was all his own fault!

He wrestled with the ties of his armor and pulled it off. With a scream, he threw it against the wall, and then, retrieving it, began pounding it repeatedly against the floor. He did not care who heard him scream. He did not care that his new armor was dented. He slammed it again and again until his arms ached, and then he sat down heavily on the floor, and cried.

* * *

Iroh did not pass an easy night, either. After seeing Lan Chi to bed with a kiss, he shut himself in his office to think. Zuko's words had haunted him the evening through, and he needed to concentrate on them. He reviewed his nephew's words and compared them to what he knew about his father's death, trying to reconcile Zuko's tale to the tale that _he_ had been told.

Azulon had died of a broken heart; Ursa had died of shock. He had never questioned either, although, now, he did not know _why_ he had never questioned what he had been told. Perhaps he had not _wanted _to know the truth – the truth that something untoward had happened. He had no proof, of course, of any misadventure – just the story told by a boy ravaged by grief.

The idea that Azulon would demand Zuko's death – that did not sound like his father. Azulon had been a ferocious, and oftentimes cruel, warrior – that much was true – but he had also been fiercely protective of his family. And to require the death of a child – his grandson, no less, as punishment for his own son's sins – that did not bear a resemblance to the father he remembered.

To be certain, Iroh did not doubt that Ozai had asked for the throne, and he could definitely believe that Ozai had stolen the throne. Iroh was, in fact, nearly positive that his brother had misrepresented their father's last wishes. But the thought that Ozai had hastened their father's death, and the notion that he had, in some way, and for some unknown reason, caused his own wife's death, had never occurred to Iroh. And now it did. And he would have to do something about it – because, if he did not, there was no telling if there would be another victim of Ozai's megalomania, and who it might be.

And who might be caught in the crossfire.

* * *

One of the first things that Iroh felt that he had to do the next day was talk to Zuko, to, among other things, reiterate to him the importance of keeping silent about what they had discussed the night before. Iroh did not, however, find Zuko waiting for him in the courtyard, as was his habit. That in itself was odd, and coming, as it did, on the heels of Zuko's confession, Iroh felt a momentary frisson of fear arc up his spine. However, Iroh was not one to jump to conclusions, so he went looking for his nephew.

He found him in the first place that he searched – the boy's bedchamber. To say that the room was a mess was an understatement. Broken pottery littered the floor, and papers and books lay ripped, torn or upended. Zuko's new uniform lay in tatters, and the pieces of his armor, pristine the night before, were bent and scratched as if his nephew had been in a great battle.

Zuko himself lay sprawled on his bed, snoring, clad only in his drawers, his face half-pressed into the pillow. Iroh gently placed a hand on Zuko's back to check his temperature and breathing. Both seemed normal, and Iroh patted him gently and stood to survey the wreckage of the room. He should clean some of this up before the boy woke.

He picked up the books and papers first, and tried to smooth them out. Next he picked up the uniform. It looked like his nephew had removed it without benefit of buttons or ties – as if he had literally ripped it from his body. His armor was in even worse disrepair – bent so out of shape as to be unusable, scuffed, and _scorched_.

"Uncle?" Zuko's sleepy voice distracted Iroh from his examination of the armor.

"Good morning, Prince Zuko."

Zuko, seeing the armor in his uncle's hands, pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed his face.

"What happened to your armor?"

Zuko looked at the armor, then at his uncle. "I fell – down the stairs."

Iroh's brows rose. "How many flights did you fall?"

Zuko colored. "Just one."

He indicated the burn marks. "Were you on _fire_?"

"No!" Zuko looked down at his hands.

Iroh sighed, placed the armor on the floor, and sat down on the bed next to his nephew. He peered at Zuko's face closely. Blood was dried around the edges of one nostril and smeared along his cheek, and a few purple bruises were on the same cheek.

"Zuko, what happened?" Iroh had a good idea, but he wanted confirmation.

"I told you –"

"The truth, please. And do not dissemble."

Zuko shook his head. "Nothing. It was nothing."

"Zuko, did you talk to anyone about – what you told me last night? About the night my father died?"

He gave him a confused look. "No. I told you; I've never told anyone but Lan Chi."

Iroh breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. So tell me what happened last night."

"Nothing happened, Uncle. Truly."

Iroh laid his hand on the boy's arm. "Zuko. There is no dishonor in being a victim. Only in continuing to allow yourself to be victimized."

"It was my fault, Uncle." Zuko looked at his uncle earnestly.

"How was it your fault?" Iroh frowned.

"I – I was rude. And disrespectful. And he – he was right."

It _was_ Ozai. "What happened?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It won't happen again. I've learned my lesson."

Iroh decided to leave it at that. "And the room? Your armor? Was this you – or your father?"

Zuko looked around at the rubble. "It was me. I was – angry. At myself, mostly. For ruining last night. For ruining everything."

"You didn't ruin anything, Zuko. Last night was a huge success. You were wonderful."

"But, then – never mind. I don't want to talk about it."

"It may help if you do."

He shook his head again. "No. It won't." A thought occurred to him, and he looked at Iroh. "Uncle, _please_ promise me that you won't talk to Father about this."

"Zuko..."

His eyes constricted in fear. "Uncle, no! You _have _to promise me you won't say anything. Please tell me that you won't. _Please_."

Iroh's lips compressed into a line, but he nodded. "All right. I won't. But _you_ must promise me something."

"Anything."

"You must strive to control your temper and practice self-restraint."

Zuko nodded somberly.

"Now, I want you to get up, bathe, get dressed, and go about your day, as you usually would. Act as if nothing is wrong."

"Yes, Uncle."

"And I will take your armor to the smith, and see if he can –" he looked at the twisted metal, "well, perhaps he can melt it down and re-cast it. Either way, it shall be as good as new."

* * *

After exacting a promise from Zuko that he would train with Jiao Ao later and try to spend his day as normally as possible, Iroh left his nephew cleaning up the rest of his room. He turned towards his office, with a thousand different things on his mind. The mystery surrounding his father's death had now been joined by Ozai's apparent abuse of Zuko. An abuse that the victim would not discuss and of which Iroh did not know the genesis.

As he passed through his secretary's office on the way to his own, he beckoned to his man. "Come, Zhushou. I have need of you."

"Yes, Sir." The small man jumped up and followed Iroh without hesitation.

Iroh sat behind his desk. "Please close the door and sit down."

Zhushou's nerves jumped. Was he about to lose his position?

Iroh waited until his orders were followed. " Zhushou, I know that you are the most discreet of men – indeed, that is why I employed you. You have kept my secrets, and the secrets of the Fire Nation, exceedingly well. However –"

Zhushou was beside himself with anxiety. He _was_ being fired! "General Iroh! I do not know what I have done, but I _swear _to you that I _have _kept your secrets! Without fail! I don't know why you are firing me! What have I done?" He pulled at his hair.

Iroh was confused. "What are you talking about? I'm not firing you!"

Zhushou released his hair. "You're not?"

"No. I'm not. In fact, I have a rather important project for you."

"You do?" He smoothed his hair down.

"Yes, but you shall have to be a little _less_ emotional in your approach to it." Iroh was giving him a strange look.

Zhushou sat up a little straighter. "Oh, I will, Sir. I promise!"

"All right, then. But keep in mind, you _must_ be the soul of discretion. No one must know your mission, or even _guess_ at it. You must be as canny and clever as you have ever been. Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes, Sir."

"Very well. It concerns my father's death." At those words, Zhushou's eyes grew wide. "Oh, yes, I see that has piqued your curiosity."

"The death of Fire Lord Azulon?"

"Yes. And I bring this to you because you have served me very well. After all, you found my father's will – for which I shall be forever grateful."

Zhushou blushed. "I was just doing my job, Sir."

"And I am calling upon you again. Are you familiar with my father's secretary?"

"Lao Chuai?"

"Yes. The very same. I would like to talk to him."

"As I recall, he retired after the Fire Lord's death."

"Yes. I had heard that. Do you think you will be able to locate him?"

"I will try."

"Good. But, please, recall that you must do it secretly."

"Yes, General, I shall."

"And once you have found him, let me know _immediately_. I will approach him myself. I cannot chance him going to ground."

"Yes, Sir."

"Also – Princess Ursa's lady's maid."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Find her, as well. I would like to speak with her."

"Yes, General."

"Again – discretion is key."

"I will be; I give you my word."

"Good. And one more thing. The Fire Sage who was High Sage at the time of my father's death. I would like to speak to him, as well. He should be much easier to find – as High Sage, he should be resident in the palace. And it should arouse no suspicion that I wish to speak with him."

Zhushou's face fell. "Sir, I am afraid _that_ will be impossible."

"Why?"

"He died a few months after your father, I'm afraid. Fell down a flight of stairs."

* * *

Iroh was disquieted by the news regarding the High Sage, but he was not, unfortunately, surprised. The more he learned about Ozai, the more he was convinced that his brother was capable of nefarious deeds – even deeds as heinous as regicide and patricide. This, of course, made his ill-treatment of Zuko all the more believable.

Still, he did not know how he could do anything about the abuse without confronting Ozai about it – which he had promised Zuko that he would _not _do. And he could not break his word to Zuko – that might destroy their relationship, which Iroh could not bear. Ever since he had returned from his travels, Iroh had cherished his time with Zuko. He had seen in Zuko something that needed nurturing – a fragile ego, a blossoming intelligence – a nobility. Iroh could admit, also, that within Zuko, he could see Lu Ten. A young man not lost to him, a young man who still needed him.

A young man who could be saved.

In contrast to weighty problems such as possible murder and child abuse, Lan Chi's difficulties seemed inconsequential, although to her, they were monumental. Monumental – and ruining her concentration.

"Arms up, Lady Lan Chi!" Jiao Ao came towards her, brandishing a staff.

Lan did as she was told, bringing her own stick up at the last moment to block him. Unfortunately, however, her hands were in the wrong positions, and Jiao Ao struck her fingers.

She dropped the staff and jumped around the courtyard, howling in pain.

Jiao Ao lowered his weapon. "You are not concentrating today, my lady."

"I'm sorry, Master." She shook her hand vigorously.

"Are you still thinking of Prince Zuko?"

Her hand stilled, and she looked at him with frightened eyes. "Wh – what?"

"His genbuku! Were you still thinking about it?"

She was relieved. "Oh, yes! The genbuku! It was – a lot of fun."

"I saw you dancing with Prince Zuko. You looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"What? No – no! I wasn't – I didn't –"

Jiao Ao held up a hand. "Peace, Lady Lan Chi. We won't speak of it again, if it makes you so uncomfortable."

"Thank you."

Jiao Ao indicated that she should raise her stick again, and he raised his own. She was just advancing on him with her staff when he spoke. "Although you made quite a handsome couple." She faltered, and her master took his chance to disarm her. He smiled. "Distracted."

* * *

Author's Note: I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. In it, we see another example of Zuko's lack of self-control, which, as you know, leads to a tragedy...

We also see more of Ozai's inhumanity towards his own son – he is obviously someone who abuses his power, both over his subjects, and his children. I hope that I portrayed Zuko's reaction afterwards properly – many victims feel that abuse is their own fault – something that, if they just change their own actions, they can prevent in the future.

We also see that Iroh is coming closer to finding out the true details of Azulon's death – details he is not sure that he wants to know...


	31. Chapter 30

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just referee the Redemption game for the Zhangs and the Gan Jins!**

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes:** Thank everyone who took the time to review and/or post comments; I really appreciate the feedback! For those of you reading but not commenting – come on! It just takes a second! ; )

* * *

By tea time, Iroh could still not quell the disquiet he felt within himself. He chafed at the inactivity forced upon him by his circumstances – but he had learned patience, and had learned not to strike before the time was right. Until Zhushou returned with his findings, Iroh could not investigate his suspicions – and, until then, he had to exercise self-restraint – which he had just lectured Zuko about earlier that day. Life could be ironic, sometimes.

He entered the sitting room of his home, and smiled. Lan Chi sat at the tea table, waiting for him. She was dressed in blue, with her hair up, and she looked so _grown up_ that a lump formed in Iroh's throat. She was a young lady now – no longer a little girl, and the thought both frightened and pleased him. He was frightened because the child he loved so much was gone, but pleased because he was so excited for her to be starting her own life – falling in love, getting married, having children. She had apparently begun that life, for she had already fallen in love – with the boy he had chosen for her, it was true, but with the boy who was now the least available to her. He sighed. He wanted to make it right for her – and for Zuko. They had both known so much grief in their young lives – they deserved happiness. And, he had decided, if he could bring them that happiness, he would. But the question was – how?

She heard his sigh and looked up with a smile. "Hello, Uncle. Right on time."

He set his briefcase down and settled himself at the table. "You haven't had to reheat the tea?"

"Only once."

He felt the pot. "Perhaps it should be twice."

She moved to ring for Hua, but he stayed her. "I'll do it, Duck. Or have you you forgotten I am a firebender?" He put his hands around the metal teapot.

"I did, actually, for a moment. I'm so used to having Hua heat it on the stove." She could hear boiling. "I think it's hot enough."

Iroh placed it on its trivet. "It should be nice and strong now."

"Just the way you like it." She poured two cups. "How was your day?"

He shrugged. "I've had better."

"I'm sorry. Would you like to talk about it?"

He shook his head sadly. "Thank you, dear. But, no. I won't complain. Tell me about your day, instead."

She shook her head. "There's nothing to tell, really. I trained with Jiao Ao, I studied history, Madame Nushi told me I was a lost cause –"

"Did she really?" He raised his brows.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I told her that all her work was going for naught."

He laughed. "Why did you tell her that?"

"Because one cannot turn a sow's ear into a silk purse."

"Are you the sow's ear in question?" He was trying to keep a smile off his face.

She raised her chin. "So to speak."

"And so you think your future as a silk purse is limited?" He sipped the tea. It was very strong, as Lan had predicted, but, oh, so good.

"I think my future as a proper Fire Nation society wife is limited, yes."

"Well, I respectfully disagree. I think that you shall make some man a fine wife someday."

She was silent as she passed him the plate of cookies, her lips compressed.

Although he had a desire to keep the subject of Zuko from their conversation, he could not bear her obvious unhappiness. "You do not want _some_ man."

She was peeved. This was a frequent discussion. "No, I don't. I know the man I want – you know the man I want. I just can't – have him. That's all."

"Lan Chi –" he began with a sigh.

She held up a hand. "No, Uncle. I do not want to discuss it. Truly, I don't. Despite what you must think, I do not want every conversation that we have to be about Zuko – or to end up in a fight about Zuko. That is not my intention. We both of us have lives that do not revolve around him, and I, for one, would like to discuss those things. So, I am sorry if you think that it was my aim to harass you about him. It was not."

He looked at her for a long moment, then gave a firm nod. "You're right. There are many other things we can discuss. Tell me what you were studying in history today. I'm sure it was fascinating."

* * *

By the next day, Zuko was starting to feel better, and a bit more normal. The bruises were more noticeable on his face, but no one asked about them, so he had to make no excuses.

Lan Chi probably would have asked, so he was determined to avoid seeing her until after they faded. However, he wanted desperately to see her. _Desperately_. He wondered if he could see her if he wore a mask – no, that was stupid. Well, perhaps he could see her at night. That was it! He could see her at _night_, with low lights. He smiled. That was a good idea. There were so many things that they could do at night – like kissing. That was a _very_ good idea.

He had several moments of anxiety about pursuing her in defiance of his father, but he could not fathom never seeing Lan Chi again – never holding her, never touching her face. He was not a disobedient child – in all things, he had always tried to obey his father. With everything that he did, his first thought was how his father would react. His father's desires had always become his own. His father wanted a son who was a superior firebender, and Zuko had done all he could to bring that to pass. The same with swords and hand-to-hand combat – his goal was always to please his father. To see a smile, to hear the words _"good job, son,"_ to get a kindly pat on the shoulder or the back – those were all he asked. Until the night of his genbuku, what he had gotten instead was, "_you could have done better_." However, when his father had said that Zuko's genbuku was a success, the boy had been joyful. Then, he himself had destroyed it with thoughtless words.

But he could not bring himself to forsake Lan Chi. He loved her – and he could not think of his life without her. He could bring his father around. He knew that he could. If only he could prove himself to Ozai.

"Prince Zuko! Please pay attention!" Han Li, one of Ozai's social secretaries, pulled him back to the present.

"I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was saying that, if you do not pay attention, we'll be here until your _birthday_!"

"That's only a month and a half away."

The man gave Zuko a dark look.

"Sorry." Zuko chose another gift from the pile and began to pull the ribbon from it.

He and the social secretary were seated in Ursa's old sitting room, which was large enough to hold all the presents, and, as an unused room, could be left in disorder. When he had first stepped into the room, several hours before, he had felt physically sick. He had not been in this room since the day after his mother's death, and being here again had brought back to him, like a fist to his stomach, that she was gone. Of course, he knew that she was gone, and it was something that he carried with him always, but, _being here_, seeing her delicate sofa and the curios that decorated the shelves – it brought it back like a flood. He had considered requesting that they go to another room, but, seeing the enormous pile of gifts, he decided against it. To request that servants haul hundreds of gifts to another room just because of his sentimental mawkishness seemed – abusive. And he was very aware, right now, of the results of abuse. So, he had decided to steel himself and remain without complaint.

"Prince Zuko, from whom is the gift?"

Zuko turned the box over. "I don't know."

"Is there a card?"

Zuko opened the box. Inside was a miniature portrait of his father. Well, that was an – interesting gift. There was a small card beneath it. "It's from – General Zhang and his wife."

Han Li scribbled on a parchment. "And what is it?"

"A portrait of my father."

More scribbling. "Oh, how thoughtful."

"I suppose."

"Yes. "_Thank you for your thoughtful gift_. _I am so pleased that you were able to attend my genbuku._" Does that sound right to you, Prince Zuko?"

"Yes. Yes. Fine." He was handed the parchment for his signature.

"Mind the ink. It's still wet."

"Thank you." Zuko picked up a brush and signed his name.

The secretary whisked the thank you note away. "Now, the next."

Zuko sighed and picked up the next box on the pile. It was a largish box, with an intricately tied yellow ribbon. He frowned at it – the color looked familiar. He slid it off the box, set it aside, and lifted the lid. Inside was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

It was an agni kai drape, of burgundy silk with gold thread, and, as he lifted it out, he saw that there were golden waves of fire embroidered on one end that reached up towards the middle. He laid the drape on his lap and traced the outline of the waves. It was exquisite. There were thousands of stitches – it must have taken the embroideress who did this quite a long time.

A small piece of parchment lay beneath it, and he unfolded it, although, by this time, he had an inkling who the giver was.

_Dearest Zuko,_

_I hope that you like this, and that you never have to use it. Congratulations on your genbuku._

_All my love always,_

_L._

He smiled. Now he knew why the color of the ribbon had been familiar. It matched the robe she had worn to his genbuku. What a clever girl! He remembered how she looked in the robe, her creamy skin visible at the neck of the dress, the beautiful dragon that she had embroidered herself – that _she_ had embroidered. He lifted the drape again to peer at the stitches. She had embroidered the drape herself. He would bet his life on it. It must have taken weeks, if not longer. He smiled again. She _loved_ him. She really loved him.

His heart squeezed, and he was nearly overcome by a desire to run from the room and directly to Iroh's house. He wanted – he wasn't even sure what he wanted. He wanted to see her, to hold her, to kiss her, but that didn't seem like enough. He wanted – _her_. All of her.

"An agni kai drape, Prince Zuko?" The secretary's voice intruded on his thoughts.

"What? Oh, yes." He folded it back up and placed it lovingly in the box.

"A card, your highness?"

He was silent for a moment. "I beg your pardon?"

"Is there a card?"

Zuko slipped the note in the box, as well as the ribbon. "No. No card."

* * *

Ozai was practicing his bending. He loved to train in the late afternoon, when the equatorial sun was the hottest. He liked to strip down to only pants, and feel the sun beating down on him, feel the sweat rolling down him, feel his black hair heat up in the brutal rays.

He trained in the Fire Lord's private courtyard, which was off limits to all but invited guests. Ozai invited few guests, so, practically, the only people allowed in the courtyard was Ozai himself, servants performing their duties, and the guards who accompanied him or trained with him.

Today, the Fire Lord trained alone, his guards standing just inside the entrance, in case he required something. He required nothing but to be left in peace. His guards were relieved, because his shots were precise and deadly, and more than one of their comrades had been injured after having been their lord's training partner. A rock set up in the middle of the courtyard was the target of Ozai's wrath instead, and bore the brunt of his firebending. Quick, blazing shots hit the rock over and over until it glowed red with the heat of the flames.

The door to the courtyard opened, and Ozai's secretary, Feng, eased in. He whispered something to one of the guards, who shook his head and shrugged. Feng leaned over and whispered to the other guard, who gestured towards the Fire Lord. Feng shook his head in response, but the guard made the same motion, and Feng's shoulders slumped.

On leaden feet, he approached his master. "M – my lord?"

Ozai ignored him, continuing to blast the rock.

Feng waited for a few minutes, then spoke again. "My lord?" His voice was stronger now; perhaps the Fire Lord had not heard him.

Ozai looked at him briefly. "Go stand by that rock."

Feng's color disappeared. "M – my lord?"

"Go stand by that rock." He repeated, and pointed towards his stone victim.

Feng shuffled over to where his master indicated. He stood next to the rock, careful not to allow his robe to come into contact with its glowing surface.

"In front." Feng did not move. "Now."

His limbs trembling and his heart pounding, Feng did as he was bade.

Ozai's eyes narrowed, and he stared at Feng for a long moment. He drew his arm back and then, with a forward, thrusting motion, he shot a small, lethal fireball directly at Feng.

To his credit, Feng did not move, although he shut his eyes as death was launched at him.

After a few seconds, he realized he was still alive. He also realized that his hat was on fire. With a small yelp, he knocked it from his head.

Ozai drew a deep, satisfying breath, and smiled at his own abilities. Then he looked at his employee, and frowned. "Why are you disturbing me?"

Feng dropped to his knees and lowered his head. "My lord, I thought that you would want to know."

Ozai walked over to him. "Want to know _what_?"

"Y – your brother's man, Zhushou."

"What about him?"

"He – he has been inquiring about the location of Lao Chuai, your father's secretary."

Ozai's blood ran cold for a moment. "Has he?" His voice was calm and menacing.

"Y – yes, my lord."

A cruel smile curled Ozai's lips. "Indeed? Well, I think it might be time for Lao Chuai to take a little vacation."

* * *

Lan Chi was awakened that night by the sound of a sharp, intermittent rapping sound. It was past midnight, and the room was in darkness, with the only light the moon coming through her window. She lay in her bed, wondering if she had imagined the sound, when it came again. It was the sound of something hitting her window. Puzzled rather than alarmed, she got out of bed and crossed the room to peer out. A shadowy figure stood in the courtyard below.

_Zuko_! She threw opened the window and leaned out. "Zuko! What are you doing?"

"Finally! I've been throwing pebbles at your window for ten minutes!"

"What are you doing here?" She repeated, peering sideways into the darkness to see if anyone was watching them.

"I wanted to thank you for your genbuku gift."

She blushed. Despite her misgivings about the gift, she was very pleased that he had liked it. "You're welcome."

"Come down."

"What? No! It's past midnight!"

"I came all this way – at night – to see you. The least you can do is come down and talk to me."

"I've talked to you. Now go home!"

"I'm not going home until you come down. I wanted to come up to your room, but the wisteria vine is gone."

"Thank goodness! What if Uncle Iroh catches you climbing into my _bedroom_?"

"I saw him. He's asleep in a chair in his study. Now come down!"

She gave an aggravated sigh. "Fine. Wait there." Tamping down the alarms blaring in her head that questioned the wisdom of this decision, she closed her window and fumbled about in the dark until she found her robe, which she tied securely around herself. She slipped on soft-soled shoes and left her room, silently closing the door. She sneaked down the stairs, hardly daring to breathe. If Hua or someone else caught her, she would have some a lot explaining to do.

She slipped out the kitchen door and ran across the courtyard to where Zuko stood, still under her window. She grabbed his arm and dragged him into the shadows of the cherry tree.

"You shouldn't be here!" She hissed.

He pulled her into his arms suddenly and kissed her. Her hands came up to clutch at his shoulders, and her body swayed against his. His lips were soft and his breath was sweet, and she never wanted it to end. He finally pulled away, and, in even the dark, she could see his smile.

"Hello," he said huskily.

"Hello." She could hear her own voice, reedy and unsure.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to come see you." He kissed her again, and she gave into the sensations swirling inside her, her arms sliding around his back. He shifted his footing, and she was between him and the tree, pressed up against both. She finally ended the kiss to come up for air. He kissed her jawline as she breathed raggedly against his cheek. He had realized, when he first held her, that she wasn't wearing any breast bindings. Breast bindings were probably not things that he should have known about, but he had a sister, and he was not completely ignorant about the female anatomy. In fact, it was her anatomy that was affecting _his_ anatomy right now.

"Zuko," she whispered.

He pulled away, looking at her with glittering eyes. "You have your hair down. It's beautiful."

She blushed and averted her gaze. "You don't need to say that. It's not true."

"Yes, it is. Kiss me again."

She did, her mouth slightly open. He plunged his fingers into her hair and his tongue into her mouth at the same time. She was stunned, and jerked away.

"Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

"Azula."

"_What_?"

He blushed at how that sounded. "I mean Azula told me that men and women kiss like that."

"Thank goodness she didn't _teach_ you!"

"That's just sick." He kissed her again, and she melted against him. His fingers threaded through her hair again, from the base of her skull upwards until he was cupping her head. She thrilled at the feel of his fingers on the sensitive skin there, and a shiver of sensation rippled through her body, curling into her abdomen.

"Are you cold?" He asked, concern in his voice.

"No. It's just – your hands feel so – good."

He laughed. "But not my lips?"

"Oh, yes, your lips, too." She said earnestly.

"I've been thinking of you – a lot – since my genbuku. And then I opened your present. It is so beautiful. It's incredible. Thank you again." He placed a kiss beneath her ear.

Another shiver went through her.

"You're – you're welcome." Another kiss, this time on the lobe of her ear.

"Spirits, I've wanted to do this for days." He murmured, his breath warm in her ear.

"_Really_?" Her voice was incredulous.

He laughed and stepped back. "Is that so unbelievable?"

"Yes."

He pulled her into him. "When are you going to believe that I love you?" His lips found hers again.

She pushed him away. "You have to go." She couldn't stand here and listen to his words and feel his hands on her and keep a clear head, and she needed to keep a clear head.

"I love you, and I want to marry you. If you don't know that by now, I don't know what I am doing wrong."

"Zuko! You know I can't marry you!"

He put his lips against the side of her neck, ignoring her words. "Yes, you can. Just say "_I do_.""

At that thought, visions of Ozai came flooding back into her head. She pulled out of his arms and put Zuko between herself and the tree. "Zuko, you have to go. You can't be here."

"Why?" He tried to kiss her again, but she evaded him.

"You might be caught. And Uncle Iroh will be mad! And your father will _kill_ us both!"

"I can handle Uncle." His hands grasped her wrists and slowly pulled her to him. His lips caught the edge of hers.

"But you can't handle your father! Let go!"

He dropped his hands. "He'll never find out. And I don't care if he does." His words were braver than he actually felt.

"I do! Zuko, I could get in a lot of trouble! _And_ Uncle Iroh!"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Look, never mind, okay? But you have to go!"

"No. Not until you tell me that you love me. You do love me, don't you?" He had a sly half-smile on his face.

She blushed. "No!"

The smile did not waver, and he started to pull her to him. "You're lying again."

She averted her eyes, but he put his fingers beneath her chin and forced her to look at him. "Aren't you?"

She was mesmerized by the look in his eyes. She nodded. "Yes." Her voice was a croaky whisper.

"Yes, what?" He pulled her against him. Spirits! He was so warm, and his body so hard – and strong, and – _masculine_!

She finally put her arms around his neck, and looked him full in the eyes. "Yes. I love you."

"I knew it." His smile was huge this time. He kissed her, and his tongue found hers again. He liked this kind of kissing – he was glad that Azula had told him about it. He pulled his mouth away, even though he didn't want to, because he wanted her to agree to marry him, too. "And you'll marry me?" He pushed away thoughts of how angry his father had been when he had told him that he wanted to marry Lan.

"Zuko – we're only thirteen!"

"Almost fourteen." He reminded her. "It's perfect – admit it. We have two years to convince Uncle and Father."

"I think it'll will take _considerably _longer to convince your father."

He wove the fingers of both his hands into hers and looped their arms behind her back. "I know a way we can force Father's hand. And then he'll _have _to let us get married."

She was suspicious. "What way?"

He shook his head, a secretive smile on his face now. "I'll tell you if and when the need arises. So, say yes."

"Zuko –"

"Say yes."

Her head was spinning, and she wondered if she was dreaming. "Yes. But, on one –"

"No more talking. Kissing." He lowered his mouth to hers again, and, with her arms effectively pinned behind her, she had no choice but to accept it. Not that she minded, or would have pulled away even if she could have. She felt something against her belly, and, realizing belatedly what it was, she turned her face, suddenly red again, and laid it against his shoulder. "Zuko. You have to go. Really."

He sighed, knowing the wisdom in her words. "Okay." His words rumbled against her ear. "When can I see you again?" He laid his head against hers.

She shook her head, and, sandwiched between his shoulder and his head, he felt it. "I don't know."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me when I can come back."

"I don't know." She repeated, pulling away.

He did not let her go, but kissed her again, long and hard, until she was gasping for breath. He released her mouth and laid his forehead against hers.

"When?" His voice was rough. "Tomorrow night?"

She shook her head weakly, her resolve draining away. "The day after tomorrow."

A sudden smile flooded his face. "I'll be outside your window at midnight."

"No. Wait here, under the tree. I'll come to you."

"Promise?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He brought her against him and kissed her tenderly. She felt her heart flutter in her chest at the contact. His tongue touched hers again. It was magical. He was magical. He released her hands finally.

"Zuko," she touched his face after the kiss ended, her eyes studying his features. "I can't believe this is real."

"It is," he whispered. "It's very real." He pulled away reluctantly. "I'll see you day after tomorrow. Are you sure it can't be tomorrow?"

She smiled ruefully and shook her head. "Go, but be careful. Please."

"I will. I promise." He smiled and turned away. He ran across the courtyard, pulled himself up onto the wall, and disappeared.

She sighed, content. Zuko loved her. He had asked her to marry him! And she had said yes!

Oh, no! He had asked her to _marry _him! _And she had said yes_! What was she thinking? Had she lost her mind? The _one_ thing that had been forbidden to her, and she had gone and _done_ it!

And here she stood, in the middle of the night, in only her nightgown. She ran for the kitchen door and tried the handle – and panicked. It was locked. Oh, no! It was locked! She did a brief inventory in her mind of all the doors on the ground floor. Sitting room door, kitchen door, front door. The kitchen door was locked. The front door was surely locked. The sitting room door – she sprinted quietly towards it. Locked.

She cursed her luck. She would have to try a window. She tried the sitting room windows – locked. She went back to the kitchen. Locked – and too high anyway. All the windows along the first floor were locked, until she came to the windows of Iroh's study. The study where Zuko said their uncle had fallen asleep.

She was torn between wanting to find a window unlocked, and hoping she would not find an unlocked window in that particular room. If any of those windows were unlocked, she would have to crawl in, past Uncle Iroh, and sneak up to her bed. Maybe she could spend the night outside. Sure, it was a little cold, but what was cold compared to sneaking past Iroh?

She peered through the window. There he was, chin on chest, hands folded across his belly, snoring like an asthmatic goose. There was a cup of tea next to him and an open book. She tried the window. Of course, it slid open without a hitch.

She rolled her eyes. Of course it slid open without a hitch. She was the unluckiest person she had ever known.

She listened to make certain that Iroh's snores continued, and then gingerly put her leg through the window, followed by the rest of her. Uncle's breathing shifted with a loud snort, and she froze. He scratched his nose in his sleep, turned his head away from her, and gave a long breath. The snoring ceased, but he slept on. She let her own breath out slowly. He was a light sleeper, despite what the snoring indicated. She tiptoed across the room, past him, and put her hand on the knob of the door.

"So, how is Zuko tonight?" Iroh's sleep-thickened voice asked from behind her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth in dismay. She turned slowly to him. He was watching her with amused eyes. She dropped her hand from the doorknob.

"How did you know?"

He nodded towards the window. "Those pebbles didn't wake only you."

"Oh."

He patted the ottoman in front of him, and she sank onto it with a heavy sigh. "So he kissed you, eh?"

"Did you see us?" She was aghast at the thought.

"No. But you spent an inordinate amount of time under the tree with him, in the shadows. And I'm certain you were not discussing the weather. Besides, I know the signs, my dear. I am a man of the world, after all. Swollen lips – and your eyes are glittering like stars."

She sighed. "It was wonderful, Uncle."

"I'm sure it was. And he asked you to marry him?"

"Wh – what? No – of course not!" She blustered.

"It's all right. I've known for quite a while that he wanted to marry you."

"_What_? You've known? How _long_ have you known? _How_ have you known?"

It was Iroh's turn to blush. "Well, he _may_ have mentioned it to Jiao Ao –"

She put her hands up to her cheeks. "Jiao Ao? _Jiao Ao_ knows? Zuko told _Jiao Ao_?" She could not believe her ears.

"Do not be upset. Jiao Ao is very discreet."

"But _you_ knew? And _Jiao Ao_ knew? And _I _didn't?"

"Calm down, Little Duck. It is of no consequence."

She gave him a disgruntled look. "You're right. It isn't. I'm glad that you know. Because I said yes, and because I have decided that I am going to marry him."

"Oh?" he looked speculative. "Have you?"

"Yes. I have. And you can send me away to live with Aunt Ming if you like. But I can't guarantee that we won't run away together."

"You would allow Zuko to give up the throne?"

She raised her chin. "It would be his choice – if he gave it up. I will take him with or without it."

"So you are determined?"

She set her jaw. "Yes."

"And what of Ozai?"

Her bravado disappeared. "I don't know. I haven't thought that far in advance."

He chuckled.

"This is _not_ funny."

"No. I know. It is not. But – I have."

"You have what?"

"I _have_ thought about it."

She blinked at him. "Wh – what?"

"I have been thinking – long and hard – about your dilemma. Our dilemma, actually, since I am partly to blame for this sad situation."

"Just partly?"

Iroh looked at her with great consideration. "Perhaps you are right. But, I think that I may have the solution."

"You do? What is it?"

His look turned calculating. "Even though my father left Ozai the throne, he left his personal fortune to me. _And_ I have been investing my own money for years. I am a very rich man, Lan. Very rich. And if there's anything that Ozai wants, it's money. And he can't tax the people much more. More taxes might lead to discontent, which would weaken his authority." He trailed off.

"What are you saying?" A glimmer of hope was born in her.

"I'm saying that I am very rich – and that _you_ are my heir – and Zuko, even though I told a bit of a fib to Ozai about that."

"Are you saying that you are going to _buy_ off Ozai?"

"That is exactly what I am saying. Ozai wants our father's money, and he wants it for himself. So, with a large enough dowry…"

"You think I might become acceptable, even to Ozai."

"Yes."

"Give it to him. He can have it all. I've never wanted your money, Uncle."

"I know." He squeezed her forearm gently. "And, if I can use it to make you happy, then I will. Will marrying Zuko make you happy?"

A shy smile came across her face. "More than anything."

"Are you certain that this is not just a schoolgirl crush?"

She leaned forward and slid her hand into his. "Uncle, I know that there are people in the world who meet their soul mates when they are both children. I am just lucky enough to realize it early in life."

He nodded. "Fair enough. It's a deal, then? I promise to bribe Ozai, and you promise to be happy?"

She threw herself into his arms, tears springing to her eyes. "Yes. Oh, yes!"

"Good." He set her away from him, and looked at her seriously. "But you are both still too young. I want you to go slowly. You can't be married until you are both sixteen anyway. So, if you feel the same way about Zuko in a year's time –"

"I will!"

"...And he feels the same for you –"

"He will. I know that he will!"

"Well, then, that is fine. _When_ you turn fifteen, I will speak to Ozai about your betrothal – and then you can be married a year after that. Until then, you have to be discreet. No hanky panky. Do you understand?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Can you control Zuko's passionate, impatient, impulsive, well – impulses?"

"Yes."

"Can you control your own?"

She blushed. "I will. Two years is not so long, after all."

* * *

**Author's Note: ** Well, Iroh has finally taken the plunge in more ways than one – he decided, in the last chapter, to investigate his father's death, and, in this chapter, he decided to defy his brother and foster a match between Lan Chi and Zuko. Let's see how THAT all works out!

We also finally see Zuko commit himself to Lan Chi. YEAH! He received the agni kai drape she worked so lovingly on, realized, without a doubt, that she loved him, and decided to hang his "chin out there" (thanks, Pema!), and confess his own love.

We also see the beginnings of physical desire start to stir within Zuko and Lan Chi. I have hinted at it for a couple of chapters – how they affect each other. Now they are starting to understand it, too.

Young love can be so difficult, can't it? But, new love is the most wonderful thing in the world – especially if it's true love. There's nothing quite like it!


	32. Chapter 31

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I'm just waiting for the the Pangs and the Yum Soon Hans...**

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**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes:** We really are getting to the end of part one – I promise! Also, thanks for all the reviews/comments! I appreciate you taking your time to give me your opinions. Also, thanks to bowow0708 for being my beta reader, and for reading everything so quickly - even though she is 15(!) hours ahead of me! Does that mean she is reading it in the future? ; )

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Lan Chi went back to bed happier than she had been in – well, in as long as she could remember. Iroh had made her promise not to see Zuko until he could talk to the young man about his plans for them, and she had agreed. She could afford to be patient – after all, she had the rest of her life to spend with him. She crawled back into her cool bed, slid the sheet over her body, and curled into a ball with memories of Zuko to keep her warm. His lips, his hands – the sensations he caused within her. Wonderful. Everything was wonderful. Well, perhaps not everything. There was still Ozai to contend with. But she had faith in Iroh – and in Iroh's money, to change the Fire Lord's mind. Her heart and soul believed in her uncle, but her mind still nagged her – would Ozai be so easily swayed? _Greed is a powerful emotion. Uncle can use it to his advantage._

She smiled. If anyone could make their marriage come to pass, it was Iroh. She had faith.

* * *

Iroh was not as certain. In fact, he was experiencing some misgivings, because, although he had told Lan Chi that he could convince Ozai to allow their marriage, he was not sure that he could. In fact, since he had begun to suspect that Ozai may have been responsible for their father's death, he was not sure of anything. However, he had no proof of any wrongdoing – only hearsay from Zuko, who had been only ten at the time. For the sake of all involved, he had to continue on as he had before, as if he knew nothing about the circumstances surrounding Azulon's demise. So that meant that, among other things, he must try to persuade Ozai to permit Zuko and Lan to marry. The thought that Iroh may actually end up giving his father's money to the man responsible for his death did not bear thinking – it was too horrible.

So, as he had promised Lan Chi, he sought out his nephew. He got his chance to speak to Zuko the next morning when he arrived for their usual bending lessons. Zuko was already there, and Iroh stopped to admire his nephew's form. The young man was practicing with his dao swords, allowing his fire to arc along them as he moved through his forms. The blades slashed through the air and the fire swirled around him, and Iroh, in spite of himself, was impressed. It appeared as if his nephew, despite the turmoil of his relationship with his father, had found serenity. Iroh thought he knew how his nephew came by that.

He did not want to sneak up on Zuko, but the young man was so engrossed in his bending that he did not hear his uncle's approach.

"Prince Zuko! Well done, my nephew."

Zuko jumped, and his fire sputtered out. "Uncle! You startled me!"

Iroh chuckled. "My apologies. I was just admiring your technique. Combining swordsmanship with firebending. Very innovative."

Zuko grinned, and he stood a little taller. "Thank you, Sir." He laid down his swords, picked up a towel and began to rub the sweat from his naked torso.

"You know, Prince Zuko, I think that you have had enough firebending practice for the day. Would you care to join me for a cup of tea in my office? In, say, a half hour's time – after you have cleaned up a bit?"

Zuko's eyes showed a moment of trepidation, but he answered in the affirmative, and Iroh left him to walk to his office.

Zhushou bowed as Iroh entered. "General Iroh, Sir. Good morning. I was not expecting you so early."

"I decided not to train Prince Zuko this morning. However, he will be here in a few minutes. We have family business. Could you please order a pot of lychee tea for the two of us?"

"Yes, Sir." He nodded as Iroh walked through to his inner office. "The Fire Lord sent over some papers about the forty-first division's deployment."

"Thank you, Zhushou."

The secretary followed his employer. "I also have some information about Princess Ursa's lady's maid."

Iroh sat down heavily. "Ah, good! Is she still employed in the capital?"

"Yes, Sir. In fact, she is still employed in the palace. She is Princess Azula's lady's maid, now."

Iroh considered this for a moment. "Hmm. That is – unfortunate. For both myself and the poor maid. Azula is a harsh mistress, I think." He sighed, trying to figure out a way to speak to the woman without arousing suspicion. Since the woman still worked for the royal family, it was probable that her allegiance would still be to the Fire Lord. "Zhushou, please find out her schedule. Where she goes when she is not with the Princess – where she lives. I think that I may need her assistance – Lady Lan Chi is in need of a lady's maid. Who better to consult as a resource than Princess Azula's lady's maid?"

Zhushou nodded. "Very good, Sir."

"I will come to her whenever it is convenient – she need not come here. And I would prefer that it be – a surprise visit."

"Yes, Sir."

"Any word on my father's secretary?"

"I have made quiet inquiries. Nothing yet."

Iroh nodded. "Keep on it, then."

"Yes, Sir." Zhushou bowed himself out of the room and shut the door.

Iroh began leafing through the papers that Ozai had sent him. He found a conscription report that showed that fewer and fewer able-bodied men were being drafted into the armed forces – the Fire Nation was being bled dry of its men, and the army had taken to drafting boys as young as sixteen. Iroh shook his head sadly – he was so damnably sick of this war. Too many lives lost – from every nation. These young recruits were not even men yet, and they were being sacrificed for the ambitions of the Fire Nation – and the ambitions of Ozai.

"Uncle?" Zuko's tentative voice came from the doorway.

Iroh smiled at his nephew, and laid down the papers. "Zuko! Zuko, my boy. Come in! Sit down!"

Zuko did as he was told, and smiled at his uncle uncertainly. He wasn't sure why he was here, but he had an idea. An idea that was slightly unsettling.

Just then, Zhushou came in with the tea tray.

"Ah, perfect timing, Zhushou. Come, Zuko, let's have some tea!" He walked to his tea table and indicated that Zuko should join him.

Zuko seated himself across from his uncle at the low table, and watched as Iroh poured them each a cup. He accepted it with thanks and a small bow. He was just raising it to his lips when his uncle spoke. "Tell me, Prince Zuko, what were you doing with my niece last night?"

Zuko fumbled the cup, and tea spilled down his front. He grabbed a napkin and ineffectually rubbed at his tunic while Iroh watched him with an amused expression.

"Is it a hard question to answer, nephew?"

"N-no, Sir." He put the napkin down. "How did you know?"

"You weren't as quiet as you thought, Zuko," Iroh answered kindly.

Zuko blushed. "Oh. Are you angry?"

"I was. Did I not tell you that Lady Lan Chi is not for you?"

"But, Uncle!" He began, but Iroh held up a hand.

"I said that I _was_." He refilled Zuko's cup. "I can see that keeping you and Lady Lan Chi apart is like trying to hold back the ocean with a toy shovel and pail. Still, you should have come to me first, as is proper."

Zuko looked at him with nascent joy on his face. "Are you saying that you _approve_?"

"Since it seems that I have no choice, yes. But I still am not pleased at you _sneaking_ into my home and meeting with my niece in secret."

"It wasn't her fault, you know. I forced her to come downstairs."

"I doubt that you _forced_ her, Zuko. She is a young lady who knows her own mind."

Zuko looked off into the distance, a dreamy look on his face. "Yes, she is."

"So, tell me, Prince Zuko; what are your plans for Lan?"

Zuko looked down at his hands, clasped tightly around the napkin. "I want to marry her, Sir." He looked up to gauge Iroh's reaction. "I have not changed my mind."

"And you asked her?"

His chin lifted. "Yes. And she said "_yes_.""

"Do you think it proper to ask a girl not yet fourteen such a question?"

Zuko blushed.

"We have spoken of self-restraint before, Zuko. You obviously did not exercise any last night. In more ways than one. I am aware of your _liberties_ with Lady Lan Chi. "

Zuko shrank inside his uniform, speechless.

"Have you nothing to say, Prince Zuko?"

"I apologize, Uncle. It was dishonorable of me to ask Lan to marry me without speaking to you first. And I should not have kissed her."

Iroh shrugged. "Well, you _are_ a young man. I would be surprised if you hadn't kissed her. But you are right about proposing." He waved his hand blithely. "Still, as I said, I am long past opposing your desires." He sipped his tea.

Zuko was puzzled. "M – my desires? My desires towards – Lan?"

Iroh blew the tea out of his nose. "What? _No_! I did not mean _that_! No! You may not have – _desires_ towards my niece!"

Zuko brought his hands up to his head. "Uncle! I'm so confused! What are you saying?"

Iroh put down his cup, closed his eyes, and took a deep, calming breath before speaking. "I am saying, Prince Zuko, that you may marry Lady Lan Chi – in time. And I am also saying that I understand your – _desire _to be, well, I suppose, _close to her_ would be the best way to put it. _However_, and this is quite a big _however_, you _may not _take liberties with her."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. Am I allowed to kiss her?"

"Yes, you may." He pointed at his nephew. "But no further. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir." He mumbled into his shirt.

"I _want_ to help you, Zuko. If you want to marry my niece, I think that I _can_ help you. But you must help yourself as well. I do not want to be a great-uncle too soon, Zuko, if you understand my meaning. And that would be disastrous to your plans."

Zuko's head snapped up. "Uncle! I would never dishonor Lan in that way."

Iroh sighed. "It is difficult, Zuko, when you are in love, to sometimes halt your show of affection. Very difficult indeed. So, although you may not intend to, you do more than you should. I want you to pledge to me, Zuko, that you will keep your head about you when you are alone with Lan. At least until you are sixteen, and I can see you married. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir. I will."

"Good. I would like you to come to dinner tonight, my nephew, so that we may discuss this with Lan – to make certain that you both understand what is going on, and what I intend to do."

Zuko's face lit up. "So I can see her tonight?" He asked eagerly.

"You will remember your promise to me, Prince Zuko?"

"Oh, yes, Sir, I will."

"Then you can see her tonight."

* * *

Zuko arrived early to his uncle's house. He had gone out earlier to the open market to buy flowers for Lan, and he was dressed in his best uniform. He wanted to make a good impression on her, and on his uncle. He had showered and washed his hair, had brushed it until it shone, and he had arranged it very neatly into his usual queue. He had shined his boots until they shone, too. He looked good, and he knew it. Lan would not be able to resist him. The only thing that marred his perfection were the bruises on his face, which were now purple and yellow. He hoped that she did not notice them, although he knew that was a forlorn hope, at best.

He heard the bell as he entered through the gate, and skipped up to the front door. He gave a lively tattoo on the wood, and waited nervously until his uncle's servant opened the door. The man bowed and allowed Zuko to enter. The prince looked around for Lan, but did not see her.

"This way, please, Your Highness. I will tell General Iroh and Lady Lan Chi that you are here."

"Thank you."

The man took Zuko to the sitting room, and Zuko laid the flowers down on a table. He looked around the room. It was familiar, but, tonight, through the eyes of love, it all looked new to him. He paced back and forth, inexplicably nervous. He did not know exactly what to say when he saw Lan, but he wanted to see her _desperately_. He heard quick footsteps down the stairs, and knew that they did not belong to his uncle. He stopped and faced the stairwell. Lan appeared, looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her, in a green robe, with her hair down around her shoulders, its colors caught in the flickering candlelight. Zuko drew his breath in sharply.

Her face lit up at the sight of him, and she ran lightly into the room, into his waiting arms. His lips covered hers immediately. She sighed deep in her throat as she settled into his embrace. He kissed her hungrily, as if he could not get enough. He finally pulled away after a long time.

"_Zuko_," she breathed when their mouths parted.

He laid his forehead against hers. "I missed you."

She smiled shyly. "It's been less than twenty-four hours since I last saw you."

"Are you saying you didn't miss me?" His tone was teasing.

She laid her head against his chest and heard his strong, regular heartbeat. "Oh, no. I missed you _terribly_."

He kissed her again, and steered her towards the small sofa. He sank down with her and leaned back so that she was settled across him. His hands wandered down until they were across her lower back, and he pulled her close against him.

It was then that he remembered his pledge to Iroh, and he reluctantly sat up and put her away from him.

"What is it?" Her eyes were glazed.

"I promised Uncle that we would – restrain ourselves."

Her eyes refocused, and she looked sheepish. "I did too."

"So, he had the same talk with you?"

"Yes." She entangled her hand with his.

"I was about to break my promise."

"We'll try harder next time."

"To break the promise?" He closed his other hand around hers.

She smiled. "No. To keep it."

He caught sight of the flowers on the table, and he reached over to give them to her. "These are for you."

"Zuko! Thank you." She took them from him and brought them to her nose, inhaling their sweet fragrance. "They're beautiful."

He pushed a lock of hair from her face. "So are you."

She turned to look at him, saw the bruises, and gasped. "Zuko! What happened to your face?" She touched his cheek gently, and he flinched.

"Fell down the stairs." There was no way that he was telling her the truth.

"What? When? Are you all right?" Her concern was evident, and his heart swelled.

"I'm fine."

She kissed his bruised cheek. "_Please_ be more careful."

"I will." He tried to change the subject. "Do you like the flowers?"

"What? Oh, yes. I should put them in water."

"Later." He leaned forward and kissed her again, but he was careful not to touch her, the pledge to his uncle ringing in his ears.

It was good that he was mindful of his word to his uncle, for just then Iroh walked in. He cleared his throat, and they jumped apart and scrambled to their feet.

Iroh gave a small smile. "Good evening, Prince Zuko."

Zuko bowed. "Good evening, Sir."

He turned his attention to his niece. "Ah, what lovely flowers, Lan. Why don't you take them to the kitchen and give them a drink?"

"Yes, Uncle Iroh."

"And mind you go put your hair into order."

"Yes, Sir." With a last, longing look at Zuko, she took the flowers from the room. The prince's eyes followed her.

Iroh settled himself onto the sofa that Zuko and Lan had just vacated. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, you two."

Zuko frowned. "That's bad. If we want to keep this a secret, we must learn to hide our feelings."

"Or never be in the same room with her if anyone else is around."

"It may not be too hard. I only ever see her if I come here."

"True. But you would do well to learn to keep your emotions close. It's a measure of self-control."

"A measure of self-control that I should learn, I suppose."

"Everything that is worth having is difficult to attain, Prince Zuko."

"Yes, Uncle."

Just then, Lan returned with the flowers in a vase. She set them prominently on a table in the center of the room.

"Perfect." Iroh smiled at her, but found that she was looking at the prince as if he, her uncle, was not in the room. He sighed. "Your hair, Lan Chi?"

She tore her eyes from Zuko. "What? Oh, yes." She smoothed her hair over her shoulder. "I'll be right back."

"We'll go into dinner." He smiled at Zuko. "Shall we, Prince Zuko?"

They walked together into the dining room, and settled down around the low table there, Iroh on one side, Zuko on the other. Lan joined them a few minutes later, out of breath, her hair back in its usual braid. She bowed to Iroh, smiled broadly at Zuko, and slid in next to him. His hand sought hers under the table immediately, and she shot him another smile, shy this time. Iroh watched them with knowing eyes.

"Lan, you know why Prince Zuko is here tonight."

She looked down at her lap. "Yes."

"So, since it seems that you two are of a like mind, we should make plans for your eventual marriage. Of course, you cannot be married until you are sixteen. Since a betrothal of a year is customary, we should make the announcement after Lan reaches fifteen, which, as you know, is more than a year away. That means, of course, that any relationship you have should remain secret until that time. It would not do well for talk about the two of you to circulate around the palace before then. We cannot, of course, stop the talk after your betrothal is announced, but, since you will, at that time, be committed to one another, the talk will be rendered relatively harmless. Do you understand what I am saying?"

They both nodded, and Zuko again took her hand beneath the table.

"There are those who will object to your marriage, of course, due to the fact that you are heir to the throne, Zuko, and to the fact that Lan's mother was not of Fire Nation blood." At this, Lan blushed. "Do not be embarrassed, child. Any objections to your marriage are born out of ignorance and racism, and have no merit. Still, you should be aware that those people will try to make it difficult for you to marry Zuko, and will also try to make you feel inadequate. You should not give them any credence, either of you. There is really only one serious impediment to your marriage, and I will take care of that."

"You're referring to Father." Zuko said quietly.

"Yes. There is much that I can offer Ozai that I believe will bring him around to allowing and accepting your marriage. But you must do your part, Zuko. For the next two years, you must be the model of a perfect son, a perfect prince, and a future monarch. You must resolve yourself to controlling your emotions and practicing self-restraint in all things."

"Yes, Sir."

"You must also prove to me that you are worthy of my niece. You must redouble your studies, in self-defense and in learning the ways of governance. Commit yourself to understanding the role you are to play in this world, Zuko. Learn the proper manner of the Fire Lord, so that, when you succeed, you will have the wisdom of knowledge at your disposal."

"Yes, Sir, I shall."

"I think it best that you give up some of your academic studies in the afternoon and begin to assist me in my work. Then, perhaps, when you are older, you can begin assisting your father in _his_ work. That is really the best way to learn the inner workings of the government. Are you amenable to that arrangement?"

"Yes, Sir. When will I get to see Lady Lan Chi?" He shot her a sidelong look.

"When _I _say, Prince Zuko. Do not think that you are going to have the run of my house, or that you are going to monopolize my niece's time. She must prepare, as well. The life of the Queen of the Fire Nation is not easy." He turned to Lan Chi. "Are you prepared to sacrifice what you must to marry Prince Zuko? Your privacy, the freedom to command your time as your own?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes." Zuko squeezed her hand beneath the table.

Servants brought in the dishes, and they all dug in with gusto. When they had filled their bowls, Iroh continued. "There is much you need to learn, as well, Lady Lan Chi. Madame Nushi can assist you, of course, but it will require more commitment on your part. If you are willing, that is."

"Oh, I am! I am."

"Good. It seems that we are _all_ of a like mind. So, then, shall we turn our attention to this delicious food?"

* * *

The food _was _delicious, and although Lan and Zuko both filled their bowls, neither of them had much of an appetite, nor any desire for talk. Iroh carried the bulk of the conversation, making idle chitchat about the weather, about his boyhood exploits, and about anything he could think of. His audience, however, seemed only to have eyes and ears for each other.

After three-quarters of an hour of a silence loaded with meaningful looks and small smiles, Iroh sighed. "Go!" He pointed at the door.

They both looked at him with astonished expressions. "I beg your pardon?" Lan asked.

"And so you should! Talking to you two tonight is like talking to stones! You're excused from the table."

Lan smiled and stole a look at Zuko. "May we go out to the courtyard, Uncle?"

Iroh looked at them suspiciously. "Why?"

"To talk!" Zuko said eagerly.

"And to kiss, a little." Lan admitted, to Zuko's stunned look.

Iroh smiled. "At least you are honest, Little Duck. Fine. Go."

They jumped up, still holding hands.

"But mind that you both keep your hands to yourselves."

"Yes, Uncle!" Lan said, pulling Zuko from the room.

They barely got out of the door before Zuko stopped and dragged Lan into his arms. The kiss he gave her was wild and hungry, and she was rather startled at its intensity.

She put her hands up between them and turned her head. "Zuko." Her voice was breathy.

He sighed. "Yes. I know. I'm sorry." He gentled his hold and kissed her more softly. "I just lost my head."

She giggled, and slid her arms around his waist. "This is going to be a long year."

"But a good one."

She nodded. "Yes. It will be. I love you."

"I love you, too." He kissed her again, his fingers sliding down her back towards her buttocks.

"Hands!" Uncle Iroh's voice came from the doorway.

Zuko and Lan jumped apart.

"He sees everything," Lan sighed.

"Then let's go where he can't see." He grabbed her hand and pulled her across the courtyard to beneath the cherry tree. The light from the torches was dimmer here, and they were both cast into shadow.

There were several more kisses and hands placed where they shouldn't have been, but after a few minutes, Lan put a stop to it. "You told Uncle that we would talk." She turned her head so Zuko's lips found her cheek.

He sighed, and reluctantly released her. "Fine. Yes. Talk. Let's do that, then." He slid down the trunk of the tree, and patted the spot next to him on the ground. "What should we talk about?"

She sat beside him. "I – I don't know. Tell me about your day, I suppose."

"Really? Tell you about my day?"

"Is something wrong with that?"

He shrugged. "No. I guess not. It's just that – no one ever asks me about my day."

She laughed, certain that he was kidding. "Don't be silly."

He shook his head, and stretched out, laying his head in her lap. "I'm not trying to be. I mean, I don't often see Father – and we never eat dinner together. Just Azula, and _she_ never asks about my day."

She was amazed. "Well, once we are married, I shall ask about your day every day. In fact, I will start now. How was your day?"

He smiled, and brought his thumb up to rub her lower lip, his eyes remaining on her face. "It was very good. One of the best, in fact."

She smiled, as well. "Was it?"

He nodded. "Mm-hmm. I was promised something today that I never thought that I would get."

"And what's that?" She stroked his head.

He smiled roguishly. "The love of my life."

She was touched. She leaned over and kissed him. "I do love you."

"I know." He looked at her for a long moment. "Will you take your hair down?"

"What? Now?"

"Why not?" He shrugged.

"Take yours down! I've never even seen you with your hair down! I've known you for eight years, and I've even agreed to marry you, and I have never seen you with your hair down. Ever!"

"I'll take mine down if you take yours." He smiled and sat up.

"All right, then." She brought her braid around to the front, untied the ribbon, and began untwisting it, never taking her eyes from him. While she did that, he reached up and untied the band that held his queue, and allowed his hair to fall.

"Your hair is down to your shoulders!" She marveled.

"And yours is down to your waist."

She held one of the springy curls out, as if to gauge its length. "Not quite." She turned back to him. "You look so different."

"Different in a good way or different in a bad way?"

"A good way, obviously." She touched his hair. It was fine, and shiny, and beautiful. "When you're Fire Lord, will you wear it long, like your father, or in a topknot, like Sozin?"

He was thoughtful. "I don't know. Which do you prefer?"

She tilted her head to the side. "I don't know. Long, I think. It's much too pretty to be confined in a topknot."

"Pretty? My hair is not _pretty_! It's manly, perhaps."

"How can hair be _manly_?"

"I don't know, but mine _is_."

"You _are_ being silly now."

"I'm not silly." He grinned at her.

"Just manly?" She grinned back.

"Yes. Manly." He leaned forward, and lifting her hair away from her face with one hand, kissed her gently.

Despite the number of kisses that they had already shared, her heart leapt in her chest. She tentatively threaded her fingers through his hair and cupped his head.

He smiled against her lips, and then sat back. "I see why you shivered last night when I did that. It's rather odd, someone touching your scalp like that."

"Odd in a good way or odd in a bad way?"

"A good way, obviously." He echoed her words from earlier. He lay back down with his head in her lap. "Tell me, how many children do you want?"

She had begun to run her fingers through his hair, but faltered when he finished the question. "_Children_? How many _children_ do I want?" She turned red, which, luckily, in the dim light, he could not see.

He turned to look at her from below. "You _do_ want children, don't you?"

She was surprised. "I – I suppose so. I guess I hadn't really thought about it." _Or about how to get them_.

"We'll need to have children, you know. To continue the monarchy. A boy, of course. Or two. Or perhaps three."

She was aghast. "_Three_ boys?"

"And three girls. To keep it even."

"_Six_ children? _Six_?"

"What's wrong? Too many?"

She could feel heat in her face. "I would say that my limit is four."

He considered that a moment. "I guess that's okay. But we _must_ have two boys. An heir and a spare."

"I am going to pretend that I didn't hear that. I will not have a child as a _spare –_ like an extra wheel for a wagon."

"Two boys and two girls." He spoke as if she had said nothing. "What will we name them? Ursa for our first daughter, of course."

She smiled slightly. "That would be – nice."

"And for the first boy – how about Lu Ten?"

Her smile became wistful. "That would be – very nice. Thank you. Uncle would like that. So would I."

"And the other two – well, we'll come up with those names later. We still have time, after all."

"Yes. We do. All the time in the world."

* * *

Zuko finally left that evening, and, although he tried to extract a promise from Iroh that he could return the next day, his uncle refused. "You will be distracted all day tomorrow otherwise. You can come after dinner the day after tomorrow."

"But, Uncle –"

Iroh held up a hand. "No arguments. I will not spend the next two years with you mooning over each other."

"Too late." Zuko smiled and tried to take Lan's hand, but Iroh stepped between them.

"Yes, it is, indeed. Late. Now go."

Zuko gave Lan Chi another intimate smile as Iroh shoved him gently out the door.

He kept the smile on his face as he walked slowly back to his bedchamber, dreams of the next time they met already in his mind.

After he had gone, Iroh turned to Lan Chi with a stern look. "Young lady, we must talk."

She sighed. "I know. I know. _Hands to yourself_. I tried! Really, I did. He does seem to be all –" she waved her hands at him, then dropped them suddenly. "Sometimes."

"Hmm. Yes. I gathered that. Well, I think I have a solution."

She looked at him warily. "What is your solution?"

He smiled at her beatifically. "A chaperone." He turned for the stairs.

A look of horror came over her face, and she chased after him. "A _what_?"

He continued up the stairs. "You heard me. A chaperone. Someone who can be in the room with you and Prince Zuko when I am not available."

"_Why_?" She whined.

"Because Prince Zuko can apparently _not_ keep his head around you."

"He will! He will! I promise that he will!"

Iroh stopped mid-flight, and Lan Chi ran into the back of him. He turned and touched her on the nose affectionately. "It's not a punishment, Little Duck. It's merely a precaution. Besides, you need a lady's maid, so I'll just hire someone who can be both."

"But then she'll _know_ about Zuko and me! And I thought you didn't want anyone to know about us!"

"If I pay her well enough, she will keep all of your secrets." His brow furrowed. "From the rest of the world – not from me, of course."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Uncle!"

He patted her on the head. "No arguments. It will do no good."

"But, if I promise that we really _will_ behave? Will that change your mind?"

He turned and began climbing the stairs again. "Probably not."

"Ha! But that means it's a possibility?"

"It means that it is bedtime." He gave an exaggerated yawn. "I'm tired." At the top of the stairs, he stopped for her, and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You must be, too. All that kissing is exhausting."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and that you are enjoying the story overall. I am trying to keep loose ends to a minimum while still keeping up the foreshadowing for the rest of the tale – part two, especially. All the steps that the characters take seem to tangle them into the tragedy that is coming – all the decisions and indecisions will lead to the event that changes everyone's lives irrevocably.


	33. Chapter 32

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just craft ointments and perfumes for the sisters at the abbey.**

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes: **My thanks go out to Lunatique, an author on , who allowed me to poach an idea from her great Zuko fic "Shadow of the Dragon King." I was looking for something to outrage Zuko, and her idea fit the bill! Please read her work – you will not be sorry!

Poaching seems to be a recurring theme for this chapter – I think you will see why... ; )

* * *

The next morning, Iroh met Zuko, as usual, for firebending. Today, the young prince was seated in the middle of the courtyard, meditating. Iroh smiled as he approached.

"Good morning, Nephew."

Zuko opened his eyes and smiled at his uncle. "Good morning, Uncle."

"Have you attained serenity today, my prince?"

"Yes. It's relatively easy."

"When you're in love."

Zuko blushed. "Perhaps."

"Would you care to skip firebending today and join me in my office? You could start your apprenticeship. No time like the present, after all."

Zuko grinned and hopped up. "Am I _really_ your apprentice, Uncle?"

"Well, why not?"

"Yes. Why not?" Zuko's smile widened and he grabbed his shirt as they left the courtyard.

"There are some interesting papers to look over. A request for tax relief from a region suffering drought. A report on one of the newest divisions that has been formed. Another report from a captain in the navy – he has been studying ways to conserve our coal usage on the war ships."

"Why do we need to conserve coal? Can't the firebenders on the ships simply supply the power themselves?"

"Well, of course, they _can_, but there has to be a fuel source to sustain the fire. We can't have a string of firebenders standing at the furnace all day and night!"

Zuko colored, embarrassed at his lack of knowledge. "Oh. I'm really stupid, aren't I?"

Iroh put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Not at all, Zuko. How would you know such a thing if you were never taught? And that is what we are doing here – I am teaching you."

"Thank you, Uncle. I'm grateful – truly."

"And when you are older, you should go out into the Fire Nation, and visit all the islands, and the colonies. There is no better way to learn than to _experience_."

"Lan Chi could go with me!"

"Shhh!" Iroh looked around, but there was no one near enough to have heard the prince's words. "We do not want to tip our hand, Prince Zuko."

"Oh." Zuko looked chagrined. "I'm sorry, Uncle. You're right. I'll be more careful."

They arrived in Iroh's office, and Zhushou, who had obviously been waiting, jumped up. "General Iroh! I believe I have the information you needed!"

Iroh wagged his eyebrows meaningfully, and Zhushou fell silent, his face sheepish. He bowed belatedly to his betters.

"Thank you, Zhushou. Prince Zuko and I will be working together most of the morning. Perhaps later."

"Ah, yes, of course, Sir. It's just that – um – the _appointment_ you requested is – or well, _can be_ this morning."

Iroh's brows raised. "Oh? Well, in that case, perhaps Zuko can work on his own for a little while." He bustled Zuko into his private office and settled him at his own desk. "Look through these papers, Zuko. This should help to acquaint you with some of the issues that the Fire Nation faces."

Zuko looked at the piles of paper stacked ten inches high, with a mixture of horror and dread. "All – all of this?"

"Not all today! But the best way to start is to just dive right in." Iroh mimicked diving into the papers.

"Yes, Sir." His voice was fearful.

Iroh held up a finger. "And, don't forget – everything you read is classified, so do not breathe a word of it to anyone. Not _anyone_."

"No, Sir. I won't."

Iroh patted him on the back heartily. "Good boy! Good boy! I will be back soon. In an hour or so. Or perhaps two. Just leave when it it time for you to go to Jiao Ao, if I am not back."

"Y – yes, Sir."

He strode from the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Zuko looking at the stacks of papers with apprehension.

Once in the outer office, Iroh drew Zhushou close. "Princess Ursa's lady's maid?"

"Yes, Sir. Princess Azula is at school, and her maid should be available until late afternoon."

"Of course! I forgot that Azula is still at the Academy. Silly of me. But what of the maid? Where is she?"

"She typically spends the entire day in Princess Azula's chambers. She cares for the Princess's clothing herself. She does all the brushing and the mending."

"Hmm. An industrious woman, indeed." He looked thoughtful. "What is her name?"

"Guniang, Sir."

"Well, as much as I do not like the thought of bearding the dragon in the den, I also do not want to follow the poor woman into the servants' quarters. Princess Azula's chamber it shall have to be."

* * *

Iroh silently opened the door to Azula's bedchamber and peeked in. A woman of about thirty stood by the bed, brushing a robe laid out on the coverlet. From behind, she seemed attractive, with a trim waist and straight, black hair.

"Guniang?" Iroh asked softly.

She jumped and spun around, her hand on her chest. She calmed when she saw who it was. "Oh, General Iroh. You startled me. I am afraid that Princess Azula is not in the palace right now – she is still at school. She should be back by late afternoon, though." She was a very pretty woman, Iroh noted, with a straight nose, fine, almond-shaped eyes, and a pleasing countenance.

He smiled and entered, closing the door behind him. The woman's eyes darted to the closed door, and then to Iroh. "Actually, I was looking for you."

She backed up a step, and put her hand on the bed to steady herself. "You – you were?"

He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and tried to appear non-threatening. "Yes. You see, my niece, Lady Lan Chi, is of an age with Princess Azula. Actually, she is a bit older than Azula, and it is past time that I engage a lady's maid for her." That, at least, was true, and Iroh liked nothing more than killing two birds with one stone.

Guniang looked interested. "Oh?"

"Yes. And, I thought that, perhaps, you might know someone who would be interested. Unless you yourself might be – interested." _Why not_?

She turned back to her task of brushing Azula's robe. "But I am Princess Azula's lady's maid."

"Of course. Of course. I did not mean to – to suggest that you leave Princess Azula. I know that you have been with the royal family for a long time. You were Princess Ursa's lady's maid, were you not?"

"Yes. The entire time she was married to Prince – I mean, Fire Lord Ozai."

Iroh sighed sadly. "It was quite a shock when – when the princess passed away. Were you aware, at all, that she had a weak heart? Were there any indications?"

Guniang shook her head, but she did not look at Iroh. "No. None at all."

"Were you – with her when it happened?"

She continued brushing the robe, although Iroh was certain that any stains that could be removed by brushing were long gone. "No. It was during the night. The High Sage came to tell Prince Ozai that Fire Lord Azulon had – had passed, and she just –" she shrugged, "had a seizure of some sort."

"How terrible! Were the doctors called immediately?"

She shook her head and turned the robe over. "No. Apparently, Prince Ozai carried her to the infirmary, but, because it was in the middle of the night, there was no one there." She shook her head again. "I do not think that they could have done anything, anyway. She was already dead, from what I understand."

Iroh tsk-tsked, although his mind was whirring. "I was so sorry to miss her funeral."

She twitched the wrinkles out of the clothing. "There was no funeral. The Fire Lord – Fire Lord Ozai, that is, felt it too close to his father's. She was burned on a pyre the same night, I believe, with only the Fire Lord in attendance." She looked at him. "He was much distressed."

Iroh nodded somberly. "Yes. I can understand that."

She finally finished the robe, and folded it carefully. "I will think on your request, General Iroh."

"My request?" Iroh was startled from his thoughts.

She looked at him oddly. "Yes. Regarding a lady's maid for your niece."

"Oh! Oh, yes! A recommendation from you would be high praise, indeed, Guniang."

"Thank you, Sir." She bowed to him. "I am honored that you have a high opinion of me."

* * *

Iroh walked back to his office slowly, a slight frown on his face. He had learned little from Guniang – she was obviously not a witness to Ursa's death, or even to her funeral. She knew, it seemed, only the official story of Ursa's death. _Perhaps it is the true story of Ursa's death_, a voice in his head said, with a measure of common sense. _Yes, perhaps it is_, Iroh answered back. It was the story that made the most _sense_ – a story that did not include murderous husbands and sons, or conspiracies that included princes and Fire Sages. It would be so much _easier_ if it was the truth – but Iroh had a nagging feeling that it was _not_. And that was why he must keep digging.

He found Zuko at the tea table in his office with papers spread all about him and a cup of tea at his elbow. He was reading, his finger underlining the words as he read them. Iroh found his commitment very endearing, and smiled.

"How are you doing, Nephew? You seem engrossed."

Zuko lifted his head absently. "What? Oh, yes. Hello, Uncle. Yes. This is really very – interesting. And rather disturbing. Did you know that, if a family cannot pay their taxes, a member of the family can volunteer for the army in lieu of payment?"

Iroh nodded soberly. "Yes, indeed. I do know that."

"Has it always been this way?"

Iroh was very slow to speak, and, when he spoke, his words were very careful. "It is a relatively new policy."

"A policy? You call it a _policy_ to pay in blood rather than in gold?"

"It is not _my_ policy, Prince Zuko."

Zuko set his jaw, and nodded. He knew whose policy it was.

* * *

Zuko left his uncle's office, troubled greatly by what he had learned. An entire region, ravaged by drought, had not the ability to pay their yearly taxes. With their crops failing for the second year in a row, they had no _income_ to pay their taxes. Actually, with their crops failing, they had no food to feed themselves – so taxes should have been the least of their worries. However, it appeared that the Fire Lord gathered his taxes rain or shine – and, if the people could not pay in gold or in kind, they would pay in bodies – bodies to wear the Fire Nation uniform. And, according to the petition seeking tax relief that had been brought by the region, some of those forced into the army were as young as sixteen. Sixteen! Only a little more than two years older than Zuko himself.

Zuko had never been ashamed of being Fire Nation – until today. The thought of families sending off their children to war to satisfy a _tax debt_ – it was unconscionable. And the knowledge that it was a policy enacted by his own father – it sickened him. That Ozai could sacrifice mere children on the battlefield was a cruel blow to Zuko's image of his father. He had always thought that his father had the best interests of the Fire Nation at heart, but this – this was anathema to Zuko. This was against all that he had ever been taught about the Fire Nation. It was dishonorable and cruel, and...

...And he had to talk to his father about it.

* * *

On the day that Zuko wrestled with his conscience, Lan Chi was wrestling with her own conscience – about a decision that she knew she must make.

It began in late afternoon, when Iroh came home for tea. Lan was in her usual spot, dressed, as she always was, for formal tea, and she smiled as he came in. He sat with her, and took tea, but she could tell that he was distracted.

"What is it, Uncle?"

He shook his head. "Prince Zuko was assisting me today."

"That's a good thing, isn't it? I mean – that _is_ what you wanted."

"Yes, it is. But I fear that he is too young for politics – too tender hearted to make hard decisions – decisions that affect people's lives."

"Well, that's a good thing, too, isn't it? If a politician has no humanity, then he does his people a disservice."

Iroh sighed. "Yes. It's true. But I fear that Zuko will attempt to redress all of the nation's woes himself."

She gave a slight smile. "Bit off a little bit more than he can chew?"

"Perhaps."

"I think we're all guilty of that."

The smile he returned was a serious one.

Her own smile faded. "What is it, Uncle? Is there something else?"

"I think you may have bitten off more than you can chew, as well, Little Duck."

Her pulse started to quicken. "What do you mean?"

"When do you intend to tell Prince Zuko – about your abilities?"

Her smile disappeared, and she looked down into her cup.

"You cannot keep it from him forever."

She looked up at him. "Why not?"

"Wh – why _not_? Lan Chi – he is to be your _husband_! You cannot keep a secret of such magnitude from him!"

"I have kept it – from everyone – for nearly ten years." She raised her voice. _Except Princess Ursa_.

"Servants have ears, Lan."

She looked around quickly, but there was no one listening. "I cannot tell him! What will he think?"

"What will he think? He loves you! Do you think it would change his feelings for you?"

"I don't know! But I do not want to take the chance!"

"So, are you willing to give it up – for him?"

Give up her bending? It was the only thing – in her life – that was truly hers. Could she give it up?

"Yes." She closed her eyes. "I will – for him."

Iroh frowned sadly. "You will hide such a part of yourself from him?"

"What else can I do? I am marrying the _prince of the Fire Nation_, Uncle! Not a peasant farmer!"

Iroh pitched his voice very low. "And what of children, Lan Chi? What will you tell him if one of your children has your – unique ability?"

She blanched. "It will not come to that."

"Will it not? Can you guarantee that?"

Her face was miserable.

"No. I see that you realize you cannot. I advise you to be honest with him – and soon. If you keep it from him much longer, he may never forgive you."

Tears came to her eyes. She couldn't tell Zuko about her waterbending. She could not! The thought of his reaction – that she might see revulsion in his face – she could not bear it. She stood suddenly. "Tell Hua that I shan't be coming down for dinner. I find – that I have no appetite." She ran from the room and up the stairs.

Iroh sighed heavily and shook his head.

* * *

Lan Chi slammed her bedroom door behind her. What would she tell Zuko about her bending? Iroh was right – she could not keep it a secret from him forever – nor did she really want to. She wanted to share everything with him. She wanted all of him, and she wanted him to have _all_ of her. And that meant her bending, as well. She was going to have to steel herself to his reaction, whatever it might be. But, of course, there was no rule that said she had to tell him about it _immediately_. She could wait. _Until when_? _When you have a fight and all the water in the room explodes_? _Or how about when the first baby waterbends the bath water_?

She gave a grunt of frustration and clenched her hands into fists. She would definitely have to do it sooner rather than later. But, not too soon. Everything was still so new – so perfect. She did not want reality to intrude – just yet. She wanted him to continue to look at her with that loving gaze – that gaze that told her that she was perfect for him, that he adored her without reservation. She felt that, once she told him, the part of him that was his father – that part of Zuko that had called her a half-breed all those years ago, might make another appearance – and ruin her life. And ruin everything.

But she _would_ tell him – after a while – after he was bound to her more tightly by their love. Perhaps in a year. Yes – in a year. When she was fifteen – after Uncle had convinced Ozai to allow them to marry. Once that hurdle was surmounted, she could tell him. And everything would be fine.

She went back downstairs slowly. Her uncle was no longer at the tea table, so she searched for him, and finally found him in his office.

She stood in the doorway for several long moments before he sensed her presence and lifted his head. His eyes were hopeful when he saw her.

"I'll tell him." She said, without preamble. "I'll tell him when I'm fifteen. After you've talked to Ozai. Not before."

He nodded. "Fair enough."

She gave a firm nod, turned and left the room, leaving Iroh looking at the spot she had vacated, pensive.

* * *

Zuko was resolved to speak to his father about the injustice that he had uncovered. Indeed, after a very distracted combat lesson with Jiao Ao, in which Jiao Ao disarmed him not once, not twice, but _three _times, Zuko headed for his father's throne room – only to find it empty. His father's office was equally empty, as was the Fire Lord's sitting room, but for one person – his father's secretary, Feng. Zuko had disliked Feng for years, since the episode during which Feng had hit Zuko and had shoved Lan Chi to the ground. Still, he bowed slightly to the man, who was gathering papers from the tea table. "Good afternoon, Feng. I am seeking my father."

Feng gave him a look of dislike. "He's not here."

Zuko sighed inwardly. "I can see that. Where is he?"

Feng stiffened, resenting that this _boy_ could demand of him the Fire Lord's whereabouts! "I believe he is out riding."

"Oh. I thought he rode in the mornings."

"The Fire Lord rides when _he_ pleases, not when it pleases _you_."

Zuko was taken aback, and realized he would get no assistance from this truculent man. He bowed. "Thank you, Feng. I will see my father when he returns."

"Your father is a very busy man. He does not have time for idle chitchat with you."

Zuko drew himself up regally. "The Fire Lord will see me when _he_ pleases, not when it pleases _you_." Proud to turn the words back on the unctuous servant, he turned on his heel and left the room.

* * *

Late that night, Ozai was in the Fire Lord's enormous bed, reading troop reports, when the door opened on silent hinges. He did not look up to see who it was, but, he could tell, by the soft footfalls, who it was.

"You're late."

Guniang smiled as she opened her robe and allowed it to fall to the floor. "Azula was very demanding tonight."

"She is like her father." He looked up as she put one knee on the bed and crawled up to him.

"Hmm. You are demanding in _different_ ways, my lord." She pushed his papers down to kiss him hungrily, and he allowed her to slide them off his lap and onto the floor. She straddled him, and his hands came up to grasp her hips.

She sat back, and flung her hair over her shoulders with a seductive flip. "Your brother tried to poach me today."

One of Ozai's brows raised. "Indeed? For what position?"

Her smile was beguiling. "As lady's maid to that _niece_ of his."

"Ah, well." He ran his hand along her naked hip. "Is he aware of your qualifications, my dear? Because, were he _aware_, I am certain there is another _position_ he would offer."

She bit her lip, tempting him. "None shall touch, for the Fire Lord's I am."

"Yes. And no one takes what is the Fire Lord's. Especially not my brother." He kissed her again, and their tongues tangled.

He became the aggressor suddenly, and flipped her onto her back. He began an exploration of her body with his mouth, and Guniang purred in contentment. "He also asked about the night Ursa died."

He stilled momentarily, but then continued his assault on her senses until she was gasping. "What did he ask?"

Trying to re-focus, she blinked. "General things, I suppose. Whether I knew she had a weak heart. If the doctors came."

"Oh, yes? How _inquisitive_ of my brother. And what did you tell him?"

She shrugged. "What I have always told everyone."

"Good." He splayed his hand on her belly. "Perhaps you should consider his request."

"What?" She sat up in alarm.

"I am interested in finding out what goes on in Iroh's home. In fact, I have been trying for years to get a spy in there – but his servants are damnably loyal to the old fool – they won't even take bribes!"

"S – so, you want _me _to spy for you?"

His face was expressionless. "Is that a problem?"

She shook her head, but her eyes were frightened. "No. No, of course not. It's just that – that I – I don't want to – _leave _you."

"You aren't leaving me. You are _serving_ me, as you do now. And, it won't be forever."

She was quiet for a long time, then finally, she nodded. "All – all right. I suppose – if it would be of service to you."

He smiled and loomed over her to nuzzle her neck. "Oh, it will. And, actually," his smile became predatory, "there is something you can do right now to _serve _me."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. It was another tough one to write at the beginning, because I wasn't sure how deeply I was going to get into some of the subjects, like the politics and the introduction of Guniang.

I finally decided to give Ozai a woman, since someone as gorgeous as he is probably won't live like a monk!

I also tried to incorporate a little bit of history into this chapter with Guniang saying "None shall touch, for the Fire Lord's I am." This is a "Fire Nation translation" of the phrase "Noli me tangere, Caesaris sum," which comes from the poem, _Whoso List to Hunt_, by Sir Thomas Wyatt, a poet in Henry VIII's England. It can be loosely translated as "Touch me not, for Caesar's I am," and refers, in his poem, to an elusive woman, who history has taken to mean Anne Boleyn. She was, at one time, involved with Wyatt, and, of course, she married Henry VIII, a man most like Caesar.

The phrase "Noli me tangere, Caesaris sum," was originally found on collars designed to go around the necks of white harts that apparently belonged to Caesar. In other words, "don't poach me, for I am only Caesar's to hunt."

Additionally, "noli me tangere," is what the _Bible_ says Jesus told Mary Magdalene after His resurrection (although He did not say it in Latin, natch!) - in this case, it probably means "do not cleave to me."

Enough with the history lesson, I think!


	34. Chapter 33

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I'm just a tour guide at Lake Laogai!  
**

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes:** I found the information on pai sho at the website "The Pai Sho Project (can't link to non FF sites, so, if you are interested, just put that into Google – you'll find it). It's very interesting! I used a lot of information from that site, but I did add some other details, rules, etc. of my own.

The legend of the stars at the end is all my own, though.

* * *

The information that Zhushou had been waiting for came the next morning, and, when he saw it, he grinned. Grinning was not something that Zhushou did often; he was, by nature,a solemn man – as a boy, he had been quiet and introspective, and had spent most of his waking hours devouring books on Fire Nation history. Not for him were the games of hide and explode, or games of any sort, really. He had few friends, and his parents, recognizing his talents and proclivities early, had invested all of their extra money in their only son's education, hoping to procure him, when he was older, a position of responsibility within the Fire Nation government. To that end, he had studied law and military history, becoming the most lauded student in his year.

His parents' plans were successful beyond their wildest dreams. At the age of five and twenty, Zhushou's opinion paper on an obscure battle fought by Azulon's forces thirty years before had attracted the attention of a man who had fought in that very battle: Prince Iroh of the Fire Nation. The prince, recently returned from his disastrous Ba Sing Se campaign, was in need of a secretary who was smart and loyal and too young to have formed prejudices. Zhushou had fit the bill in all of these, and Iroh had hired him – at a very generous salary.

So, when word came in to Zhushou from one of his informants that Lao Chuai, Azulon's former secretary, resided across town, Zhushou grinned. Not only had he accomplished his master's task, its resolution was ideal. The man was still alive, and a short ostrich-horse ride away.

He relayed the news to General Iroh when the general came in after his firebending training with Prince Zuko. Zhushou's employer was very pleased and impressed, although he decided that he would visit the man the next day, since he had already committed his afternoon to his nephew. He cautioned Zhushou to keep his counsel, which, Zhushou, as a trustworthy fellow, agreed to easily.

* * *

Zuko, unlike his uncle's secretary, was having a horrible day. To begin with, he was tired. He was tired, and restless, and uncomfortable – for several reasons. He had not slept the night before. His conscience was still troubling him – he felt compelled to talk to his father about the conscription policy that he had uncovered, and the fact that he had been unable to talk to his father the day before simply put his compulsion into abeyance. It was not lessened – just suspended.

Zuko had also not slept because, to be frank, his _body_ was bothering him. Ever since he had kissed Lan Chi the night of his genbuku, he had been unable to rid himself of this aching anticipation that he felt whenever he thought of her – which was many, many times throughout the day. His very _bones_ throbbed with a kind of nagging expectation that he could not explain, or understand. He knew about relations between the genders – he was innocent, but not so innocent that he had not watched the ostrich-horses mate or the servant girls and footmen giggling and kissing and groping each other when they thought no one was nearby. However, he did not recognize, in himself, the same symptoms of burgeoning desire, and, even if he had, he knew of no way to assuage those desires.

He knew that he liked kissing Lan, and he knew that her body held mysterious delights for him. He also knew that his uncle would _kill_ them both if he attempted to discover those delights. Still, that did not mean that he could not dream of her, that he could not _touch_ her – as long as the touching was not in any of the places that Iroh had cautioned him, under penalty of death, to avoid. Lan Chi, for her part, seemed more than willing to allow him certain liberties, provided, again, that the liberties did not violate any of the strictures that Iroh had set. She seemed as passionate as Zuko, matching him with her kisses, allowing and encouraging him to touch her, and touching him, as much as their clothing and their circumstances would allow.

To be truthful, he did not know how he would get through the next two years without going much, much further than Iroh would permit, and he was almost grateful for his uncle's hawk-like vigilance. It kept Zuko, for lack of a better word, _honest_.

He was to be allowed to see her that night, after dinner – again, as Iroh permitted, and Zuko could not concentrate on firebending or training with the dao – had his muscles not been so conditioned by _months_ of training, he would have been injured several times over – a fact that Jiao Ao pointed out with disgust.

"Second day in a row, Prince Zuko, that you are _completely_ useless to me."

Zuko dropped his arms from the defensive stance he had been holding. "I'm sorry, Master."

"What is in your head, boy?" He thunked him on the crown with the butt of his own sword.

Zuko sighed and rubbed his head absently. "Too much."

Jiao Ao gave a sympathetic smile. "Girl problems?"

Zuko expelled a breath. "Among other things."

"Lady Lan Chi confided in me. She was actually a bit upset, at first, that I knew about your intentions before she did. I told you that women don't like to be left out of decisions such as that."

"She recovered well enough. Well enough to drive me crazy."

Jiao Ao laughed. "How is she driving you crazy?"

He sighed again. "By _everything_ she does. The way she _looks_, the way she looks at _me_, the way she _smells –_ she smells good, by the way, don't tell her I think she _smells_. The way she _laughs_; even the way she _sits_ – the way she does _everything_. _Everything_." He put a hand on his forehead. "I'm having trouble concentrating."

"Yes, I have seen evidence of that."

He flung his arms out. "And Uncle keeps telling me to keep my hands to myself, and I'm _trying_, but it's not easy."

Jiao Ao wagged a finger at him. "As well he should! You will not dishonor Lady Lan Chi, young man, by attempting to – to make her a _woman_!"

Zuko's face reddened. "I can't believe that I'm talking to my sword master about _girls_! There is something very wrong here."

Jiao Ao took mercy on him, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Being confounded by girls, and doing things that you never thought you would do – all because of girls – is a constant in life from this point on, your highness, so it's best you get used to it now."

Zuko looked at him critically. "This is not helping, Master."

Jiao Ao laughed.

* * *

"Uncle, I don't understand what this means." Zuko pointed at a passage in one of the reports that Iroh had given him to study that afternoon.

Iroh leaned over and read the section in question. "Seventy-five percent G.I.?"

"Yes. What is G.I.?"

"General infantry. It means that the men are not firebenders."

"Oh. So does that mean that the other twenty-five percent _are_ firebenders?"

"Yes."

"Is that – is that a normal ratio?"

Iroh shook his head sadly. "No. Ideally, the ratio in a division should be no less than fifty- fifty."

"So why does this division have so few benders?"

"There are fewer and fewer benders available to fight, Zuko. I think that is something that we are going to see more and more of in the future."

"Oh." Zuko looked thoughtful. He flipped through the papers desolately. "There is so much more to this war than I realized, Uncle."

He patted his nephew's arm. "I know, Prince Zuko. That is why you are here. To be an effective leader, you must learn all that you can. Even if it is distressing."

"I can't help thinking about the tax policy. It's wrong to make people enlist just because they can't pay their taxes."

Iroh was silent.

"Have you talked to Father about this?" He looked at Iroh hopefully.

"Yes, I have. He feels that everyone should contribute to the war effort, either through taxes or through fighting. And, in many ways, I don't think he is wrong."

"How can you say that?"

"The rich pay taxes, Zuko, and the poor pay in blood. It has always been thus."

"What? Uncle!"

"Zuko, a war cannot be waged without men to fight it."

Zuko sighed. "But these people are being _compelled_ to fight – all for lack of money."

"There are no easy answers, Zuko. I'm sorry. But things like this – you should learn about them, and think about them. They are not going away. As Fire Lord, you will face these problems _daily_, and it is important that you realize, _now_, that the life of a monarch is a difficult one. The life of a monarch in _war time_ is doubly difficult."

"What would you do, Uncle, if you were Fire Lord?"

Iroh's brows rose. "I am not, Zuko."

"But if you were?"

"I don't know. I wanted to end the war. That was my purpose in going to Ba Sing Se. I thought that, with a victory there, peace would come. It was not to be, however." His face was unbearably sad.

"Do you think that the war will be over _anytime_ soon, Uncle?"

He shook his head. "I don't know that, either. I pray to the spirits every day for its conclusion."

"But they have not answered your prayer."

"Oh, no." Iroh gave a sad smile. "The spirits have answered. Unfortunately, so far, their answer has been _"no_.""

* * *

Zuko left his uncle soon after, explaining that he had a fitting for his new armor. That was, however, untrue. Zuko was determined to speak to his father today about the conscription of the poor – and he wanted to be certain that he caught his father in the throne room.

Fortune shone on his mission. His father was indeed present, and available. Zuko walked up the aisle somberly, his bearing majestic and mature – he would show his father that he was a fit heir to the throne. He knelt before Ozai in humble obeisance.

"Prince Zuko. To what do I owe the honor of a visit from my obstinate and contrary son?"

Zuko was distressed. "My lord, I am not contrary! I implore you, do not think that! I am your obedient son, and I care only for the wellbeing of the Fire Nation, and its people."

"This sounds ominous – as if your next words will be a _request_."

"I would like you to review a piece of legislation."

"Oh?" Ozai's voice was cool. "Are you an expert on Fire Nation law, now?"

"N – no, Sire. I claim no such knowledge. I – I have merely been working with Uncle Iroh –"

"I should have known that my _brother_ would be involved in some way. What nonsense is he spouting now?"

"Nothing – nothing, my lord. He is allowing me to assist him – so that, one day, when I succeed you, I will be equipped to lead our great nation."

"_Succeed me_? You get ahead of yourself, Prince Zuko! Unless you think to _overthrow_ me?"

Zuko was alarmed. "N – no! No, Father! You mistake me! Never! I am faithful unto you! I swear it! I mean only to be of assistance to you – someday. I am preparing for that! Truly! I am your humble servant, here to serve you and our nation!"

Ozai's mouth turned down at those familiar words. "So, how do you seek to _serve_ me, Prince Zuko? By questioning my rule?"

"No, my lord. I never –"

He waved a languid hand. "Say your piece, Prince Zuko, and be gone."

Zuko gave a sigh of relief. "Y – yes, Sire." He pulled a folded piece of paper from his tunic. "It – it is regarding the island of Kykozu. They have been suffering a drought – for – for several years..." He trailed off, trying to choose his words carefully.

"Yes, yes. I am aware of the drought in Kykozu. What am I supposed to do? Command the clouds to rain?" Ozai was impatient.

"No, no, my lord. Of course not. It is the tax policy that has been enacted. The policy that dictates that any family that cannot pay its taxes must send a member to fight for the Fire Nation."

"The Fire Nation requires soldiers – soldiers to fight for it and to defend it."

"I know that, my lord. It's just that, to exchange _lives_ for taxes –" He was interrupted.

"The Fire Nation also requires money – money to pay for training and equipment, and for food to feed the troops. Everyone must bear their fair share, Zuko. Or should the burden fall only to the rich? Or only to the poor?"

"No, no, Sire. Of course not. It's just that –" Again, he was interrupted.

"Sending their children off to fight for glory of the Fire Nation is an honor for any family. And a valid alternative for those who can not afford to pay their taxes. Unless _you_ have a better solution."

"No, but, –" Zuko could think of no other valid argument, and lapsed into sullen silence.

A small smile curved the Fire Lord's mouth. "I thought not." He watched as Zuko continued to squirm. "Have you quite finished, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko nodded glumly.

"Then please take yourself off. I have _real_ issues that require my attention."

Zuko left the throne room disappointed and depressed. He had failed. He had gone in with one goal: to convince his father to repeal the unjust policy of forcing people to enlist in lieu of paying taxes. Instead of achieving his goal, however, he had instead angered his father – _as usual_, he thought. The Fire Lord, rather than commending his only son for his initiative in pursuing a resolution to what he had considered a social injustice, had accused him of trying to usurp the throne. _How could he think that of me? _It was very lowering that his father thought him capable of such treachery.

Zuko shook his head. Why did he even bother? His father was never going to be pleased with him. Never.

* * *

Uncle Iroh came home early to find Lan Chi in the courtyard, practicing archery.

"I am glad, Lady Lan Chi, to see you doing something productive instead of mooning over Prince Zuko."

She lowered her bow and gave him a scathing look. "Were you home in the daytime, _esteemed Uncle_, you would know that I practice archery _every_ day. And stick defense. And knives."

"Ah. Glad to hear it."

"And I don't _moon_."

"What do you call it, then, when you sit around and _sigh_ and smile _dreamily_?"

She stomped her foot. "I do _not_ sit around and _sigh_ and _smile_!"

"Smile _dreamily_." He corrected.

"You are maddening!"

"I am not the only one." Iroh smiled.

"You just don't remember what it like to be in love!"

He shook his head. "Oh, no – I do. Believe me, I do. You feel _odd_ and out of sorts, and you can't concentrate. You feel rather queasy whenever you think of him, or when he is around. You hunger for the sound of his voice or his laughter. His smile makes your heart jump. Your skin feels especially sensitive when he touches you, like electricity. And, whenever he kisses you, you just _melt_."

She looked at him with amazement. "I – I – suppose that you – might remember."

He sat down on the edge of the fountain. "Oh, yes. I remember. And I also remember how _easy_ it is be carried away by those emotions. That is why I am so cautious with you and Zuko – why I am so leery of allowing the two of you to be alone."

"What exactly do you think we are going to do in the _courtyard_, Uncle?"

"Just because there is no _bed_ in the courtyard does not mean that you –"

"Uncle!" She interrupted him, scandalized.

He waved his hand. "Fine, fine. I am just saying that I do not want you to be alone with Zuko – at all."

She slapped the bow against her leg in frustration. "Not at all? _No_! How can you do that?"

"I do it because I feel that I must!"

"Not even for five minutes? Surely that is not enough time to – to do what you are worried about."

He looked thoughtful. "No. I suppose not."

"Or even ten minutes."

"What? Well, I guess not."

"How about fifteen?"

Iroh's face turned red. "You are not bargaining with me, young lady!"

"I am!" Her hands became fists. "You must allow me _some_ time alone with him."

"After what happened the the night before last? Absolutely not!"

"Yes, you will! If you do not, so help me, I will sneak out of this house and go to him!"

Iroh was livid. "How dare you? I am your guardian, and you will _obey_ me!"

"Obey you? I would obey you if your terms weren't so _ridiculous_!"

"_Ridiculous_? Is it _ridiculous_ to guard your virtue?"

"My virtue? Spirits, Uncle! Do you think I'm going to _give myself to Zuko under the cherry tree_? With you twenty feet away in the sitting room?"

Iroh opened his mouth to retort, but closed it again when he saw the truth in what she said. He took a deep breath, and calmed down. "I suppose not. But I am an old man, and my beliefs are _very _well established. I am uncomfortable with you and Zuko being alone."

"Fifteen minutes."

"Fine. Fifteen minutes. _Only_. All other times you will be chaperoned. By me, until a suitable chaperone can be hired."

"What? Are we just supposed to pretend that you are not there?"

"Yes. Ignore me completely."

"Fat chance!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why can't Hua chaperone me?" She ignored his question.

"Because Hua has her own duties. And because you can wrap that poor woman around your little finger."

"Ugh. I really don't _want _a chaperone!"

"Nevertheless, those are my conditions."

She looked at him petulantly. "Fine."

"Now, perhaps I should let you get back to your archery."

She raised her bow. "And perhaps you should get out of the way."

* * *

Zuko arrived at his uncle's house approximately an hour after dinnertime. He had resolved to put the incident with his father behind him and not allow it to affect his evening with Lan Chi. After all, he had precious little time with her, and he was not going to waste it brooding. He heard the bell at the gate as he came in the courtyard, and hoped that Lan Chi would be waiting for him by the time he knocked.

Jianyu opened the door and Zuko entered. Lan Chi was hopping from foot to foot behind the butler, and, once Jianyu stepped out of the way, she launched herself into Zuko's arms. He swung her around with a laugh, and kissed her as if he had not seen her in months, his mouth devouring her.

Jianyu stood looking at them with horror.

"Lady Lan Chi!" Iroh's booming voice interrupted them.

Zuko put Lan away from him, and bowed to his uncle. "Good evening, Uncle. How are you?"

Iroh glared at his nephew. "I really don't know how I am going to survive the next year. I really don't." He pointed at Lan Chi. "I am engaging a chaperone _tomorrow_. _Tomorrow_!"

She gave a deep sigh. "Uncle."

Zuko turned to her. "What's he talking about?"

"He's threatened to get a chaperone for us."

"It is more than a threat, young lady. It's a foregone conclusion." Iroh's brows had lowered.

Lan Chi took Zuko's hand. "Come on. Let's go."

"Where are we going?" He had a slight smile on his face.

"We're going to play pai sho." She tugged him into the sitting room.

"But I don't know how to play pai sho."

The board was already set out. "I'll teach you."

He obediently took the seat across from her. "Why are we playing pai sho?"

She cast her eyes over to the doorway, where Iroh had just appeared. She raised her voice so that the older man could hear her. "Because Uncle thinks it's a safe way for us to spend our time."

Iroh nodded with satisfaction. "Exactly. I will be over here –" he pointed at the sofa, "reading."

"Thank you, Uncle." She turned back to Zuko. "He said that we can ignore him."

Zuko was puzzled. "When did he say that?"

She started setting out the game pieces, so she did not look up at him. "Earlier. You weren't here."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. Let's play."

He shrugged. "Okay."

"Fine." She gave him a mound of tiles.

"What should I do with these?"

"Those are your playing pieces."

"Yes, but what do I _do_ with them?"

"It depends on the gambit you are using."

"On the _what_ I'm using?"

"The gambit. The opening moves."

"Is there a _point_ to pai sho?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Well, what is it?"

"To win."

He gave her a dry look. "Very funny."

She began arranging her pieces on the board. "Each player is given fifty-four tiles. You are given a choice where, on your side of the board, you place your tiles to start. This is the gambit. Why aren't you placing your tiles? Go ahead." She made a shooing motion with her fingers.

He stole a look at her side of the board and attempted to recreate it with his own pieces.

"Oh. Do you use the white lotus gambit, as well?"

"The what?" Zuko continued to place his tiles.

"You're just copying me, aren't you?"

He looked at her with irritation. "Of course I'm just copying you! I have _no idea_ how to play."

She smiled, and a dimple showed in one cheek. Zuko sucked in a breath; she was so beautiful.

"I'm sorry. Okay. The goal of the game is to create more strings of _harmonies _than your opponent, while avoiding _disharmonies –_ and to try to trap your opponent into placing _disharmonies_."

He shook his head. "What language are you speaking?"

"Zuko! It's not that hard!"

"Easy enough for you to say." He flung a hand at Iroh. "You've been living with the king of pai sho for most of your life."

"Oh, that's very sweet." Iroh blushed and smiled.

Lan gave her uncle a dark look, then turned back to Zuko. "Be that as it may, Prince Zuko, it is _not_ that difficult."

Zuko sighed. "Go on."

"Okay. Now, the flower tiles," she pointed at a piece with a stylized flower drawn on it, "can be matched with certain other tiles to form a _harmony_. However, there are certain other tiles that are in opposition to the flower tiles, and, if one of your flower tiles is placed _next _to one of these tiles, it forms a _disharmony_. Do you understand?"

Zuko had no idea what she had just said, but he nodded.

"Good." She smiled. "Now, each end of the board is known as a _port_. The _port _closest to you is your _home port_. The _port_ closest to me is your _foreign port_."

"Why are you foreign and I'm home?" He was confused.

"I'm not. I'm foreign to _you_."

"You've got that right." He mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing. Go on."

My _home port_ is closest to me. But, to you, that is the _foreign port_. Get it?"

"Yes." He nodded.

"You're lying, aren't you?"

"No." He nodded again.

"You are infuriating. Listen. I have my own _home port_, and your port is my _foreign port_. Do you understand?"

He shook his head. "Not at all."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "This is going to take all night, isn't it?"

"Probably. Let's quit." He started to push his tiles away.

"No, Zuko. You _can_ learn this." She replaced his tiles on the board, and then began reciting the rules again, adding in anecdotal information occasionally.

Zuko lost the thread of her speech within thirty seconds, and simply leaned his chin on his hand to watch her. He loved to watch the play of emotions on her face – her smiles and frowns, her concentration – everything. She looked up at him from the board, and he nodded and smiled, and she resumed her instruction.

She reached over to his side to demonstrate a move, and he put his hand out and took her wrist, stilling her. Her eyes fluttered up to his, and he smiled, rubbing the inside of her wrist lazily with his fingers. Her pulse began to thump wildly, as his fingertips brought gooseflesh up on her. Her eyelids became heavy, and he smiled invitingly at her.

"Uncle!" She called abruptly, her eyes locked on Zuko. "We're going outside!" She jumped up and pulled him after her.

"Fifteen minutes!" Iroh reminded her.

She ripped open the front door and dragged him out into the darkness. She waited until they reached the shelter of the cherry tree before falling into his arms.

She took the initiative and claimed his mouth hungrily, pressing herself against him. His arms went around her tightly, his fingers spread across her back.

Her hands tugged the shirt out of his waistband and snaked under his clothes to feel the warm skin at the base of his back. He jumped and tore his lips from hers. "Hands." He whispered, his voice thick.

She made a sound of disappointment deep in her throat, and he smiled. "Watch what I can do without touching anything other than your collar."

She was bemused as his fingers grabbed the edges of her robe and pulled them slowly apart. His smile widened as he exposed her pectoral area, and he lowered his head to press kisses there, above the edges of her breast bindings.

"_Zuko_!" She gasped as his warm lips sent thrills through her. His tongue flicked out and he dragged it across her skin. She allowed her head to fall back, and he began kissing along her clavicle.

"I love you so much," she breathed as his lips moved onto her neck.

"I love you, too."

"Fifteen minutes!" came Iroh's voice from the doorway.

Lan Chi stamped her foot, causing Zuko's jaw to snap together, and he bit his own tongue. "It has not been fifteen minutes." She growled.

"Ouch." He tasted blood in his mouth.

"What happened?"

He shook his head, rubbing his jaw. "Nothing."

"Lady Lan Chi!" Iroh came around the tree, false jocosity in his voice. "Time is up. Come back inside."

She set her jaw belligerently. "I don't want to come inside."

"You promised."

"I promised that we would be chaperoned. But I want to be outside. So, if you want to chaperone us, you shall have to stay outside."

Iroh smiled, and, even in the dark, she could tell it was insincere. "Funny you should suggest that." He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Jianyu! Bring out my rocking chair!"

Her jaw dropped open. "Rocking chair! Where did you get a rocking chair?"

He shrugged. "In the attic."

She grunted in frustration, grabbed Zuko's hand, and pulled him out of the shadow of the tree.

Jianyu had set up an ancient rocking chair right outside the front door, which Iroh collapsed into. Lan looked at her uncle for a long moment, then yanked Zuko into the middle of the courtyard, near the fountain.

"Where I can see you, Lady Lan Chi." Iroh called after her.

"We're sitting here, Uncle."

"I am sensing some hostility between you two." Zuko said with a smile as he settled down against the fountain.

"Nothing gets past you." Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

"What's going on?" He put his arm around her shoulder as she sat beside him.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "He thinks you're going to have your way with me if we're alone for more than fifteen minutes."

A deep blush came over Zuko's face and neck. "He – he does? And you've – talked to him about it?"

"I talk to him about everything. You know that."

"Everything?" His voice was small.

She looked at him with a tiny smile, enjoying his discomfort – a little. "Not everything."

"Thank the spirits." He turned his head and kissed her softly.

Iroh cleared his throat, and Zuko pulled away.

"Perhaps we can find something to do that doesn't involve kissing." He gave his uncle a wary glance.

"I don't want to."

He nudged her. "Uncle is only concerned because he loves us."

"I suppose." There was a comfortable silence, and then Lan took Zuko's hand. "You can tell me about your day."

He gave a heavy sigh. "It wasn't the best day I've ever had."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I found out something yesterday while I was working with Uncle that kind of – upset me."

"What was it?"

He looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "You don't want to hear about it."

"Why wouldn't I? Zuko, we're supposed to share _everything_." Her mind pushed away the thought of her waterbending, and the hypocrite that she was being. "I'm supposed to be the person you turn to – to lighten your load."

He looked uncertain. "So you really want to hear about it?" This surprised him.

"Of course. I'm supposed to be your support. That's what wives are for."

So he told her about everything that he had learned, and he told her about going to his father, and he told her his father's words.

She listened attentively and did not interrupt, but asked intelligent questions during pauses.

He answered them, and, once he told her the entire story, he did feel – lighter. "What – what would you have done, Lan?"

"The same as you."

"But I didn't change anything." He protested.

"You don't know that. Maybe you've caused your father to think about it."

"I doubt it."

"Well, you don't have to give up, you know. Everything that is worth _anything_ at all is hard work."

He gave a slight smile. "You sound like Uncle."

She sighed. "I know. Casualty of living with him, I suppose."

"He is wise, though, isn't he?"

She stole a glance at Iroh, who seemed to have fallen asleep. "Yes, he is that."

"Thank you."

She turned back to him. "What for?"

"For listening. For lightening my load."

She grinned. "That's what I'm here for."

He gave her a light kiss. "I love you."

She touched his face. "I love you, too."

He stared at her for a long moment, then, inexplicably embarrassed, he looked up at the sky and pointed at the stars. "Do you see that?"

She followed his finger. "What? The stars?"

"Yes. Have you ever heard the Fire Nation legend about how the stars were formed?"

She looked at him with skepticism. "The Fire Nation has legends about something _other _than the sun?"

"Of course. We're not simple minded. We _can_ have legends about other things."

He scooted away from the fountain until he could lie down, and she lay with him, his arm around her. He pointed up at a large star in the sky. "Do you see that star?"

"Is that the evening star?"

"I think so."

"Isn't it too late to see it? I mean, isn't it only visible in the early evening?"

He gave her an outraged look. "It's the evening star, Lan Chi."

"Okay." She smiled.

"Anyway, it's a pretty story. At one time, only the evening star and the morning star existed. The rest of the sky was black."

"It must have been very dark, indeed."

He nodded. "It was." He resumed the tale. "One night, the morning star, as he woke, caught sight of the evening star, and, well, he fell in love with her immediately. She was so beautiful, you see."

"Was she?" She turned on her side to face him.

"Oh, yes." Zuko idly touched her braid. "Very beautiful."

"Go on."

"Extremely beautiful." The low light caught the his pale eyes, and they shone.

"I meant _go on with the story_."

"Oh, right. Well, he fell in love with the evening star, but, even though he began rising early every morning – just to see her, he could not catch her in the sky. She was just not interested." Zuko pulled the ribbon from her hair and began unwinding the braid. "Every night, she moved through the sky, and he followed her, but she never slowed down for him to catch her."

"She was playing hard to get."

He smiled. "Perhaps." Her hair was loose now, and he ran his fingers through it, luxuriating in the feel of the cool, heavy curls.

He continued. "So the morning star thought to himself, "_if only she knew how much I loved her, she would slow down and wait for me_." But he didn't know how to make her slow. Then, he thought, "_aha! I will give her gifts so dazzling that she_ _will have no choice but to slow down_!" He thought that, if she stopped to gather the gifts, it would allow him to catch up with her."

"What did he do?"

"Patience." He brought a lock of her hair to his lips. "So the morning star pulled shimmering stars from his body, and he threw them all over the sky, as tokens of his love for her. "_Surely she will stop for all the stars that I have __thrown before her_!" But the evening star was vain, and did not stop – she considered herself more beautiful than all the stars he scattered."

"She was rather conceited, wasn't she?"

"Very much so. And, do you know? To this very day, she has not slowed to allow him to catch her."

There was a long silence, and Lan smiled at him. "That was a beautiful legend. Are you sure it's Fire Nation?"

"Very sure." He continued to allow her hair to slide between his fingers.

She looked up at the sky. "But the evening star – I don't like her. Everything the morning star did for her, and she was still unimpressed. She never waited."

He shrugged. "Would you have been different? If you were the beautiful evening star, and the morning star pursued you?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes. If he loved me, I would wait forever."

* * *

Author's Note: Long chapter! It's a chapter in which Lan Chi becomes a little less patient with her parent (what teenager hasn't?), and Zuko tries (unsuccessfully) to right a wrong.

I hope you enjoyed the bit about Lan trying to teach Zuko pai sho – I knew that, resident in his house as she has been (off and on) since the age of five, she would know how to play. The fact that the rules (that we know of) are so unwieldy and incomprehensible was kind of fun to illustrate. I hope that one day, the creators will come out with a pai sho rulebook, much like they came out with a pro-bending rulebook a couple of months ago. Then, we can all play!

I thought it important that I show that Iroh does not have all the answers, especially since, in the show, he has even said the same. Answers are never easy to come by anyway, but, in war, they seem to be even harder – when the needs of the few must be balanced against the needs of the many.

I also thought it important to show that Lan Chi wants to share all of Zuko's life with him; she wants to be the person he confides in, and the person who offers him solace and understanding. In other words, rather the opposite of Mai, who has been characterized as often being unsympathetic to Zuko's concerns (I use "The Awakening" and "The Beach" as evidence of this). However, although she wants all of Zuko, she is unwilling to share her secret with him – which does make her a bit of a hypocrite. She even recognizes that duality, but she is, at this point, unwilling to rectify it.


	35. Chapter 34

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just make sure Ran and Shao are well fed...**

* * *

**Author's Pre-Chapter Notes: **Thanks to all the readers who have asked questions, which I will try to answer, BRIEFLY, here:

This story follows the CANON of the ATLA series and all its subsequent additions, such as the "Lost Adventures" comics and "The Promise" comics (parts 1 & 2 – part 3 is not out yet, so I don't know if it changes anything). In other words, if you saw it or read about it in one of the official releases, then you can assume it happened here. This story was designed as a companion to the series – the things and the scenes that were not shown on screen or in the comics are explored here. Lan Chi can exist in the fabric of the show – her "life" does not alter or contradict anything that the creators showed us – she is just another layer in the story. So, yes, Zuko is exiled at 13. Yes, he was in love (or at least "in like") with Mai at one point. Now, not to RUIN part 2 for you, but, if you did not see Lan Chi on the ship with Zuko during his banishment in the series, you can be sure that she WASN'T there at least part of the time. That's all I will say – you will just have to stick around for part two to see how it turns out...

By the way, I know that I have said this before, but there REALLY are only four or five chapters left. I'm serious. No lie. Cross my heart. I think...

* * *

Guniang did not like Ozai's idea. She did not like the idea of being a spy. There was already so much dishonesty in her life that to engage in such a thing as espionage seemed like – redundancy. But, Ozai had asked it of her, and she would do it. It was her duty; it was what her Fire Lord asked of her; it was what her lover asked of her.

Guniang had loved Ozai since she had first met him, nearly fifteen years before, and she would do anything for him. She had been a girl not yet sixteen, and her position with the Princess Ursa had been her first as lady's maid. The beautiful and kind Ursa had taken the young girl under her wing, despite the fact that there were only a few years between them. Ursa and Ozai had been happy then, and Guniang had been happy, those first months, until she finally met the young prince.

It was not unusual for servants to have never met members of the royal family, and the fact that she had not met Ursa's husband for several months was not strange. Indeed, in a twist of fate, her first meeting with Ozai had not even been in the presence of his wife. Instead, Guniang, a girl raised on an ostrich-horse farm, had been in the stables. She loved horses; the sight and the scent of them always transported her to her childhood, when she had been cosseted and loved, and had not been forced to think of leaving home for a job.

Ozai had been there, as well, having exercised one of the newest stallions, and Guniang had thought him an arrogant and cocky groom. She had flirted with him relentlessly for several minutes before realizing that he was not a groom, but rather the younger son of the Fire Lord. She had apologized profusely to him, and he had forgiven her laughingly, and told her to pay no mind – it was a silly mistake, and none need know of it.

She had been relieved and grateful that he had kept the confidence, but she did not forget that handsome and charming man that she had met that day. Naught had occurred between them until after Ursa's death, however; to cuckold her employer would have been a shameful thing for a girl raised in a decent family.

However, after Ursa's untimely demise, Ozai made it clear that he had never forgotten that brief moment in time when they had both been young and carefree and attracted to each other, and she had come to his bed willingly – and had been there ever since.

Their relationship was a secret that he compelled her to keep. Although it was quite common for royals to keep concubines, Ozai was a fiercely private man – he felt that a secret of his that was known to others was also a tool for leverage and for blackmail. Therefore, only servants knew of their liaison – servants who kept their mouths shut – on penalty of job loss or worse.

Guniang knew that marriage was out of the question, of course. Even had the Fire Lord actually wanted to re-marry, it would not be to a servant. No, it would never be to a servant.

But she was satisfied with what she had – she shared a bed with him when he desired, which, luckily for Guniang, was often, and she enjoyed the status among the servants that came along with being the Fire Lord's woman.

But she did not want to spy for him – it was a dishonorable business. It also meant that she must, of necessity, live in Iroh's house, and thus be away from Ozai. That would be the hardest part. Not leaving Azula – she was a hard mistress for whom to work. Cruel and impatient, she was always ready with a slap for any servant who displeased her, although Guniang recognized that, as a firebender, Azula's punishments could have been much, much worse.

So, with Ozai's orders fresh in her mind, she knocked on the door of Iroh's office. The general was in, more's the pity, so she was able to see him immediately.

He stood when he greeted her, and offered her a seat and a cup of tea. She accepted the first and declined the latter, although she was gratified that he had offered her, a servant, refreshment.

"Sir," she began nervously after they had both seated themselves. "I have come to accept your offer of a position in your household."

Iroh was clearly surprised. "You – you wish to accept?"

"Yes. The position as lady's maid to your niece. Is it still available, is it not?"

He gave a belated nod. "Yes. Undoubtedly. I have not actually investigated any other avenues other than approaching you, yourself."

He was offering her a way out, and, although she was grateful, that was not an option for her. "I would be appreciative if you would – take me on."

"Of course, of course. It's just that – I will admit – I am very surprised that you should want to leave Princess Azula's employ."

"Princess Azula is not the easiest person to serve." That, at least, was true. "Your other niece is more – docile, I hope?"

_Docile_? Iroh thought. _Not exactly the word I would use for Lan_. "She is very – spirited. But kind and intelligent," he hastened to add.

Guniang seemed to consider this for a moment. "Spirited I can live with. Spiteful, mean, ill-tempered. Is she any of those?"

Iroh shook his head. "No. Not at all."

Guniang smiled. "Good. That's all I need to know. You did also say that there would be a very generous salary..." She did not actually remember him mentioning the monetary recompense, but she might as well ask for extra money.

"Yes, yes. Of course. Just tell my man of affairs what you require, and it shall be yours."

Guniang smiled. "Good. May I start tomorrow?"

"What? Tomorrow? Yes, yes. Fine. Tomorrow. Capital idea."

"Thank you, General Iroh. I am sure that your niece and I will get along – swimmingly." She smiled, stood and was gone.

Iroh gave a groan. Things were not going as he had hoped. He had approached Guniang because he wanted information – hiring Lan Chi a lady's maid had simply been an excuse to approach her. Although he had intended to hire a maid for Lan quite soon, he had certainly not intended to offer the position to a woman who had been resident in the palace, in Ozai's employ! Iroh could not trust her with Lan Chi's secret arrangement with Prince Zuko. Indeed, should she find out, she might go running straight back to the palace with the gossip. In fact, for all that he knew, the woman could be a spy for Ozai.

No, no. She was not the woman to serve Lan Chi – certainly not as her chaperone! But, now, they were both stuck with her, and would have to make due – at least for a little while. Unfortunately, Guniang's presence in the household would mean that Zuko could not come and go as easily as he had been doing. In fact, the boy might have to give up his visits to Lan Chi entirely.

Oh, dear. Lan was _not_ going to be happy.

* * *

Fortunately for Iroh, he was not given the opportunity to ponder Lan Chi's reaction. That morning, after his bending practice, he had been given the good news by Zhushou that Lao Chuai, his father's secretary, was alive and living in the city! That meant that he could go see him immediately. In fact, he had just been about to order Xuan saddled and brought out when Guniang had arrived.

After having concluded that conversation (although not to his satisfaction), he was _more_ than ready to go see his father's faithful old retainer, whom Iroh knew had been in Azulon's employ for – well, for as long as Iroh could remember.

With orders to Zhushou to tell Prince Zuko that he could have the afternoon free, and with Lao Chuai's address in a pocket, Iroh set off for the man's house. On the ride there, he ran over, in his head, what he would ask the old man. First on his list, of course: what happened the night Azulon died. Was Lao Chuai there? Had he been there earlier? Did he see Ozai? Did he see Ursa? How long after Azulon's death did he learn of it?

With all of these thoughts running through his head, the journey seemed quite short. He pulled Xuan to a stop before a small, neatly kept house, with a flower-filled front yard. As he approached the door, he admired the profusion of blooms in every color. It seemed that Lao Chuai had a green thumb.

He knocked, and was rewarded, after several long moments, with the door opening a crack. A wizened woman probably twenty-five years Iroh's senior peeked through it. She had wiry gray hair, a long nose, and an equally long chin.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. Is Lao Chuai in residence?"

Her unkempt eyebrows raised. "Ooh, ain't you fancy? _In residence_, indeed?"

Iroh smiled, trying to put the woman at ease. She was obviously one of those older woman typically called a _crone_. "Yes. Is he at home?"

"No." She tried to close the door, but Iroh put his hand on it.

"Would you be his lovely wife?"

That seemed to anger her. "I ain't _lovely_, and I ain't nobody's wife. Besides, Lao Chuai weren't never married. Married to his work, more like."

"Ah, yes. He was secretary to the Fire Lord."

"Not the one what we got now. No, not to that young cock. To Azulon – the devil that he was."

Iroh suppressed a smile. It was not the first time he had heard his father called that. He was not insulted – Azulon would have been the first to admit that his actions were – devilish at times.

"Lao Chuai. Do you know when he might return?"

"No, I do not. Might be never, at his age."

Iroh felt a momentary dread. "Where has he gone?"

"To visit his sister, hasn't he? Got a letter from her a few days ago. Threw him into a dither. It did. Seems she fell – or something, and wanted his help. How that old coot could help anyone else is beyond me – _I _have to help him to his feet in the garden! And me, as old as him!"

"Oh, I see. Where does his sister live? Nearby?" Iroh was hopeful.

"Naw. She lives somewhere in the colonies. Lao Chuai complained it would take a month to get there. Or was it a month there and back? Or maybe _two_ months?" She shrugged. "Can't recall."

Iroh's heart plummeted. "Did he leave an address?"

"Nope."

"Nothing – a contact, in case of emergency?"

She cackled at that. "In case of what? The begonia dying?"

Iroh frowned. "Did he leave his sister's letter behind?"

She took umbrage. "No! And if he did, I wouldn't be showing it to the likes of you! Good day to you, Sir!" She got up enough strength to slam the door in Iroh's face.

"_In residence_, indeed! Him with his fancy words!" Iroh could hear her mutterings from beyond the door, and he sighed.

Iroh turned and walked back to his horse. He was too late. The man had fled. But why? Was it a coincidence that Lao Chuai's sister had written and requested his help at the time that Iroh needed him? Or had he gotten wind that Iroh was looking for him? Or – had someone else found out? Someone who had smuggled the old man out of the capital – or worse?

Iroh mounted his horse and turned for home. There was only one thing he knew for sure – he was further from learning the truth than he had ever been.

As he rode away, a figure unfolded himself from behind a tree and turned, like Iroh, towards the palace.

* * *

Zuko hummed as he approached his uncle's office, having just completed his daily sword practice with Jiao Ao. He had done better today than he had for the past few days. He had consciously suppressed thoughts of Lan Chi and of his problems with his father in order to concentrate, and it had worked. He had actually disarmed Jiao Ao, and his master had been very pleased.

Now, he was on his way to see Uncle, and he planned to ask the older man if he could see Lan Chi again that night. Iroh had told him that he could see her no more often than every other day, but he was hoping that, if he told his uncle that there would be no _touching_, he could come and at least see her – maybe finish learning how to play pai sho. _Wait_! _Do I really want to learn to play pai sho_? He asked himself. Not really, but, if that meant that he could see her, he would do it.

"Hello, Zhushou. Is my uncle here?" He greeted the secretary.

Zhushou jumped up and bowed. "Hello, your highness. No, I regret to say that General Iroh had to leave the palace for the afternoon."

"Oh?" Zuko's brows drew together.

"Yes. He told me to tell you that you might be excused today."

"He did?" A wonderful idea came to mind. "Really?"

"Yes, your highness."

A smile came to the prince's face. "Well, then. I guess that I should go." He left the office at a walk, but, when he closed the door behind him, he took off at a run for his family's quarters. Iroh was out – and unable to chaperone anyone. And Lan Chi was most probably at home.

Once back in his chamber, he called for the Imperial Firebenders and requested a hot bath and fresh clothes. He washed both his body and his hair, which he dried and tied up quickly, and slid on a newly pressed uniform. Pulling on his boots, he raced from his room and towards Iroh's home, not noticing that Azula was just coming up the hallway. She ducked behind a potted plant as she noted his haste, and watched him, with narrowed eyes, as he disappeared down the corridor that led to the other family quarters.

"Where are you going, Zu-zu?" She asked softly.

* * *

Since he had not actually been invited to his uncle's home, Zuko thought it prudent to make a stealthy entrance. He was going to sneak in, over the wall. He climbed the hedges that lined the courtyard, and pulled himself up.

_Perfect_, he thought to himself as he lay on the top of the wall. Lan Chi was in the courtyard, alone, practicing stick defense. He watched her for several minutes, a smile on his face. He rarely had an opportunity to observe her unseen, and this was a chance he did not want to pass up.

She was dressed in soft gray sparring clothes, with boots much like his own, and her hair was, of course, in a braid. His hands twitched with the impulse to run his fingers through it.

"Spying is unseemly, you know." She lowered her sticks, and peered up at Zuko, whose head she could see over the wall.

He grinned. "I'm not spying. I'm _observing_."

"If you're observing a person who doesn't know that you are observing, then that's spying."

He swung his leg over the wall and slid down until he stood facing her. "Well, that's okay, then. Because you saw me, so I _couldn't_ be spying."

She sighed and raised her sticks again, starting to go through her latest form. "You shouldn't be here, Zuko."

He leaned against the wall in front of her. "I wanted to see you."

She stopped and looked at him. "You know you're not allowed to be here if Uncle isn't here." She turned away and started the form over. He followed, and when she completed the form and turned around to repeat it, he grabbed the stick.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" His voice was low and soothing.

She smiled. "Of course I am."

"You sure don't seem that way."

"I'm trying to prove to Uncle that I don't need a chaperone."

"Well, prove it to him when he is actually here." He slowly dragged her to him by the stick. Under the spell of his words and the look on his face, she followed the stick until she and Zuko were only an inch apart.

A ripple of excitement went through her. "You're right."

A slight smile came to his face. "And since he isn't here, he doesn't know I'm here, either."

She sighed. "He knows everything."

He pulled her against him and slid his arm around her back. "He's not a god." His lips found hers, and all coherent thought fled from her mind. The sticks dropped to the ground, released by hands that were suddenly occupied elsewhere. His lips were soft, so soft, and his breath was sweet, and his hands on her back were causing all sorts of sensations that she welcomed and that frightened her at the same time. His hand eased down until it was at the top of her buttocks, and she dragged her mouth away.

"Hands." She murmured.

"Why?" He asked, pressing kisses along her jaw. "He's not here."

"But he'll be _really_ mad if he walks in and finds you with your hands _there_."

Both his hands had snaked down, and he moved them back up reluctantly. "He's gone for the whole afternoon. Zhushou said so." His hands cupped her face and he kissed her again.

"Zuko –" She pulled away, and he let her. "Someone might see us."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a corner of the building. "Better?"

"No."

He frowned. "You're a very hard girl to court, Lan."

"Should I be easy?" He kissed her again.

"No. _Easier_, perhaps, than you are now, though." He took her back into his arms.

"Hmm." She kissed him. "I suppose, if he really is gone for the afternoon –"

"He is." Another kiss.

"There's no harm, I guess, in you putting your hands _there_." She put her own hands behind her back and grasped his, and lowered them to her buttocks.

Shock showed on his face for a moment, to be replaced with a delighted smile. He caressed her rear experimentally, and she gave a soft moan. "Spirits, Lan," he breathed, and kissed her hungrily, pulling her lower torso against his, allowing her to feel how much she affected him.

She brought her arms around his body tightly and he responded, pulling her pelvis against him until her feet were almost off the ground.

"Oh, spirits," he repeated. "I – I want –"

"What?" Her voice was breathless and her eyes dilated with the sensations washing over her.

"I don't know." He shook his head. "You, I guess. I want you."

"You have me. Always."

He kissed her again, his tongue going aggressively into her mouth. Her own tongue met his boldly.

"Why do you always have to wear breast bindings?" He asked when she pulled away to breathe.

She laughed. "That is an area _definitely_ off limits."

He smiled drunkenly. "Or two areas." He kissed her again.

She finally turned her face from him. "You'd better go."

"Why?" He continued kissing her, his lips on her neck and her ear now.

"Because if you don't, I may end up doing what I told Uncle I never would."

"What's that?" He licked her lobe, and she giggled at the frisson that shot through her.

"Give myself to you under the cherry tree."

He drew back in surprise. "You told him that?"

She nodded. "I told you – I tell him everything."

"You aren't going to tell him about this, are you?" He kissed her again.

"Of course not! I don't have a death wish."

"Good. It will be our secret." He released her reluctantly. "I'll go."

She nodded. "Okay."

"Uncle said that I can see you tomorrow."

She nodded again and walked him over to the wall.

"By the way," he scaled the wall easily, and, when he reached the top, he turned to her. "I don't want you to give yourself to me under the cherry tree. We can wait until we're married." He reached down, and she took his hand.

"If you say so." She was skeptical.

"I do."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." He stretched down to press a kiss to her palm, winked at her, and was gone.

He was happy as he made his way back to his chamber. Lan was beautiful, and passionate, and wonderful, and understanding, and she was _his_. All his. He smiled and began whistling an old Fire Nation lullaby that his mother used to sing to him, blithely unaware that disaster was courting him.

* * *

Azula knew.

She saw her brother as he left their quarters. She saw, and she followed him. She followed him through the winding hallways, cautious not to be being seen by him. She followed him to the courtyard, and watched as he scaled a wall.

Her eyes narrowed. She knew where she was – she knew where he was going. She even had an idea why he was going there.

But she wanted to be certain.

She waited until he disappeared over the top of the wall, and she followed on silent feet. It took her longer to climb the bush than she expected – she had not climbed trees for several years, and was out of practice.

She cautiously stuck her head above the wall, and saw her brother immediately. As well as the person who was wrapped around him.

He and Lan Chi were locked in an ardent embrace, their kisses passionate and lengthy. Azula gave a small gasp as Zuko pulled Lan Chi into the shadow of the building, and watched in fascination as the Water Tribe girl guided her brother's hands down to her own buttocks. She watched as he pulled Lan Chi against his body, as he stroked her with his hands, as passion overtook them.

She watched as the mongrel turned her face from Zuko, as she allowed him to kiss her neck and her ear, as Zuko smiled at her with such – _love_. Oh, my – with _love_. Love was on his face, as he smiled at her, as he whispered to her, as he kissed her again and again.

They began to move towards the wall, their tryst obviously coming to an end. Azula ducked back down, dropped from the wall, and melted into the courtyard, a smile on her face. She finally had it – real power over her brother. And she intended to use it.

* * *

Iroh did not come home for tea; in fact, he barely made it home in time for dinner. Lan Chi was already at the table, eating noodles in solitude when her uncle finally arrived. He sank down across from her gratefully, and began filling a bowl for himself.

"You're late. Busy day?"

He nodded. "Yes. Very. I had to go out this afternoon. On a fool's errand, as it turned out. And then I had to prepare for a war meeting tomorrow. Several of the generals are in the palace for strategic planning."

"So – busy day tomorrow, as well."

"Probably." His food was cold, but he was too hungry to care.

"Well, better busy than bored."

He chuckled. "I'm never bored, Little Duck. Between you and Zuko, I'm always entertained."

She made a small bow and held her chopsticks out with a flourish. "Glad to be of service. Zuko's coming over tomorrow night, isn't he? Can he come for dinner? I'll have Cook make Komodo pork with candied ginger and pea pods."

"Are pea pods in season already?"

"Just saw some at the market yesterday."

"Well, time flies. Before you know it, it will be summer."

"Yes. Will you ask Zuko if he can come tomorrow?"

Iroh gave her a sheepish look. "Well, as to that, I have some good news and some bad news."

She looked at him warily. "I don't like the sound of that."

He gave an embarrassed smile. "I engaged a lady's maid for you."

She groaned and put down her chopsticks. "Uncle." Her voice was plaintive.

"But she won't be a chaperone."

Suddenly happy again, Lan smiled. "Oh, good. Yeah! No chaperone. So that's good news and bad news rolled into one." She picked her chopsticks up and resumed her meal.

"Not quite. More bad news. Zuko can't come over tomorrow. Or for the foreseeable future."

"What? Why not?" She was aghast.

"Well, you see," he demurred, " the maid that I hired, she, well, she's quite a good lady's maid, with the best qualifications..." He trailed off.

"Get to the point, Uncle. Why can't Zuko come over? Is it something to do with the maid?"

"Well, yes, because – you see – well, she used to be Azula's lady's maid." He finished in a rush.

Lan Chi's jaw dropped. "You hired _Azula's _lady's maid for me? Have you quite lost your mind?"

"I actually didn't _mean_ to hire her."

"Didn't _mean_ to hire her? Was it an accident? How can you _accidentally_ hire someone?"

"I actually was just hoping to get recommendations from her, but I – accidentally offered her the position, and she took it. I think that Azula is not actually a very forgiving mistress."

This time, Lan's chopsticks struck the table with a loud smack. "You think? Of course she isn't! But that doesn't mean you have to hire every palace employee she mistreats!"

"I haven't. I just hired the one."

"The _one_ who will probably tell the whole world about Zuko!"

"Which is why she won't be your chaperone. And why Zuko can't come here for a while." His last words ended in a defeated whisper.

"Oh, Uncle! How could you? Now I'll never get to see him!" She jumped up from the table and ran from the room.

Iroh winced as he heard her feet pounding up the stairs, and grimaced as the power emanating from her bedroom door slamming shook the entire house.

* * *

"Ooh, dinner looks good, Zu-zu. Don't you think?" She sat across from him at the dining table and served herself.

Zuko gave his sister a fulminating look. She was up to something. She was never nice to him unless she was planning something unspeakably horrible. "What do you want?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. Just trying to have a conversation."

"Well, have a conversation by yourself." He shoved some rice into his mouth.

She rolled her eyes. "I think you misunderstand the concept of a _conversation_, Brother. It requires two or more participants."

He was silent, continuing to shovel food into his mouth, intending to finish dinner as soon as possible and leave the room.

Azula, however, was not done with him. "So, Zuko, how are you enjoying your apprenticeship with Uncle?"

His look was suspicious. "How do you know about that?"

She shrugged. "I have my ways." She watched him for a moment, then continued. "Do you go to Uncle's house frequently?"

Zuko's heart skipped a beat. "Every so often."

"Do you ever get to see Lan Chi when you are there?"

He tried to make his shrug nonchalant. "Sometimes. Not often."

Azula chewed slowly as she watched the play of emotions on her brother's face. He was such a bad liar. "Hmm. Do you ever get to train with her – you know – like _stick defense_, or anything like that?"

Zuko put his chopsticks down and looked at her intently. "What do you want, Azula? Spit it out!"

"Fine. I know you've been going to Uncle's house to see her."

"So?" He tried to seem unconcerned.

"I saw you with her today."

Zuko's pupils constricted in fear, but he controlled his voice. "You were spying on us?"

"Can't you see, Zuko? She's _using_ you. She doesn't _love_ you. She doesn't _want_ you. She just wants to be queen."

"You're wrong. She _does_ love me, and I love her."

Azula scoffed. "Oh, Zu-zu. What a simpleton you are. She's a half-breed _whore_ who's trying to sleep her way into a coronet."

He stood. "Take that back!"

"I won't. I _saw_ you, Zuko. I saw her _offer_ herself to you. She's no better than a common strumpet!"

"Shut up, Azula!" He raced from the room, but Azula went after him.

"Make me! I'm going to tell Father! I'm going to tell Father, and he'll send her away again!"

He whirled on her suddenly. "Go ahead! Tell him! He can't stop me! We already have Uncle's blessing, and I _am_ going to marry her!"

Azula, who had taken a step backwards, covered her mouth in surprise. "You can't seriously be considering that! She's a Water Tribe slut – and no one will accept her as queen!"

"Don't call her that!"

Azula's eyes narrowed. "Why not? It's what she is. She's not _fit_ to be queen! You can't marry her!"

"I can, and I will. And do you know the first thing she will do when she's queen? She'll banish you because _you've_ always been so mean to her! And I'll let her!" He ran down the corridor.

She stared after him, her fists clenched in anger. _Banish_ her? No one was going to banish _her_. She would make certain of that!

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, something is about to hit the fan!


	36. Chapter 35

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just blow out people's torches in the Cave of Two Lovers...**

* * *

**Author's Pre-chapter Notes: **My thanks, as always, go to **bowow0708** for beta reading – and, also, this chapter, for the disclaimer above...

Also, sincerest gratitude to those who have reviewed/commented on this fic. I am glad that you are enjoying it!

* * *

Azula was _very_ angry. Actually, Azula was _angry_ quite a bit, but she was only _very_ angry infrequently. And she was _very_ angry right now. The thought that Zuko would even consider banishing her incensed her. The thought that he might _actually_ be able to do so one day not only incensed her, it scared her – just a bit, if she would but admit it to herself. And Azula was _never_ scared. Any fear that she had ever had she turned into anger – an emotion that she could use – an emotion that fueled her ambitions and her desires.

Right now, her desire was to teach Zuko a lesson – a lesson that he would not soon forget. He had the temerity to threaten her with banishment; well, she had the temerity to destroy his life. She knew how much her father hated Lan Chi, and she knew that Ozai had forbidden Zuko from even _seeing_ her – so Zuko planning to marry the Water Tribe child would be certain to outrage their father. Who knew what her father might do? He had already attempted to separate them by sending Lan Chi to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls – that had obviously not worked, thanks to Uncle Fatso. What might the next step be? Exiling Lan Chi to the Earth Kingdom? Sending Zuko to the outer Fire Nation islands? Either would please Azula.

She stole into her father's private quarters late that night to find him seated at his desk, going over papers.

"Father?" Azula made her voice deliberately small and meek.

He lifted his head, and his mouth turned down at the sight of his favored child. "Azula? What are you doing here? It's late. You should be in bed." It was not often that Ozai exhibited true paternal feelings, but sleep, he knew, was essential.

She bowed before the desk, her forearms on the floor. "Father. I am sorry to disturb you at this time, and in your private quarters, it's just that –" She looked up, and widened her eyes innocently. "I – I learned something that I think you ought to know."

"Really?" Ozai was interested. Azula rarely came to him with anything other than useful intelligence. She was quite an asset – small enough to hide anywhere, and shrewd enough to know the value of information. "What do you know?"

"It concerns – Zuko." She knew better than to pour out the tale without prodding. A story told with reluctance seemed so much more believable.

Ozai sighed to himself. What sort of idiocy was his son involved with now? "What about him?"

"He – he has been – he has disobeyed you, my lord." She said the last in a rush, as if it was painful for her to speak.

"Indeed?" _When does he ever obey?_

She lowered he eyes again, so that Ozai would not see the triumph in them. "I – I followed Zuko today, because – because he was acting _suspiciously_, Father."

"Get on with it."

"And I followed him to Uncle's house."

"Oh, yes?" He was very interested, now. If his treacherous brother was involved, he definitely wanted to hear it.

"He scaled the wall, as if he were _sneaking_ in. And, I climbed the wall, after him, to see what he was doing, and –" she paused dramatically. "I – I caught him – with the Water Tribe girl."

Ozai's hands started to unconsciously heat. "Go on."

"He – he was kissing her – most shamefully, and she was – _allowing _him such liberties, Father. Things that I have never seen." He was silent, his eyes in the distance, and a muscle was ticking in his jaw, so she continued. "After he left her, I confronted him."

"What did he say?"

"He – he said that he was going tomarry her – _marry_ her, Father! And he said that they had Uncle's blessing. And then," she allowed an ersatz sob to well in her throat, "he said that, after _he_ was Fire Lord – that he would allow her to banish me – because she does not _like_ me!" She looked up at her father again, manufactured tears in her eyes.

Ozai could not fail to be touched by Azula' performance – and infuriated by his brother's perfidy. Iroh had pledged – he had _pledged_, that he would allow no match between Zuko and his ward. Iroh had lied, as he had always lied – seeking to undermine his _own_ brother's reign. Iroh was working to usurp the throne for that mewling, whining prince. And, he was attempting to rule Zuko through the girl – that damned Water Tribe child! She should have met with an "_accident_" years ago! Iroh should have died at Ba Sing Se! Ozai cursed his own soft heart – had he done what needed to be done, this would not be happening.

"Are you certain?" He asked at last, his voice calm.

She nodded tearfully – regretfully. "Yes, Father. Unfortunately, I am."

He nodded. "You were right to come to me. Say nothing of this to anyone."

Azula rose. "Yes, Father." She started to leave, but Ozai stopped her.

"Oh, Princess Azula. One more thing."

She turned to him, still in her role.

"Guniang will no longer be your lady's maid."

"No, Father?" She was genuinely puzzled.

A slight smile came to his lips. "She has decided to accept a position as Lady Lan Chi's maid."

A similar smile touched Azula's face. "I understand, Father. I understand."

* * *

When Lan Chi awoke the next morning, she felt a sense of dread, which she attributed to the impending arrival of her new lady's maid, who was expected some time that morning. She dragged herself out of bed and dressed in sparring clothes in preparation for her session with Jiao Ao, and went downstairs for breakfast.

Iroh had already gone, and Lan ate by herself in the dining room. Just as she was finishing up, she heard the bell at the gate, and knew that Jiao Ao had arrived.

She took her dishes to the kitchen, retrieved her weapons, and walked into the front sitting room, juggling her bow and staffs. She stopped abruptly when she saw a tall, elegant woman looking at the altar that bore Su Hsing's and Lu Ten's portraits. One of the staffs slipped from Lan's grasp, and clattered to the ground, and the woman turned. She smiled when she saw Lan standing there.

She made a quick bow and smiled. "Lady Lan Chi?"

She was very pretty, Lan noted, with thick, straight black hair and a regal carriage.

Lan nodded, and bent to retrieve the staff.

"I am Guniang. General Iroh hired me to be your new lady's maid."

Lan looked at her sullenly. "I know. My uncle told me."

Guniang folded her hands before her demurely. "I am certain that we will become fast friends." She walked around Lan Chi with a critical eye. "Your uncle did not tell me of your _unusual_ hair color."

"It's red."

"I've never seen _red_ hair."

"I'm the only one in the Fire Nation with it, I think. It comes from my mother – she was Water Tribe."

If she was trying to shock the woman, she failed. "It's very pretty."

"No, it's not."

Guniang picked up her braid. "It is. You just don't know how to wear it. It should be worn down – perhaps with a flower or a comb in it."

"It gets in my way – when I'm training."

Guniang gave a small smile. "But you do not train all the time, do you?"

"No. But I should be training now."

"Hmm. Well perhaps it's time for more ladylike pursuits."

"I already have an etiquette teacher."

"Well, etiquette is one thing. I'm talking about learning to be a _lady_ in all things. In the way you sit, the way you talk, the way you laugh."

"I have an unladylike laugh?" Lan was incredulous. "You've never even heard me laugh."

"No. of course not. Those were just examples."

"Look." Lan sighed. "I would _really_ love to stand here and dissect all of my character flaws, but I have a martial arts lesson with my master right now."

"Oh, you mean Master Jiao Ao?"

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"Not really. We just met outside."

"Oh. See, he's here. I have to go." She made to walk past Guniang, but the woman stayed her.

"He's gone. I sent him off, you see, because I wanted to spend some time getting to know you a little better."

"What? How could you do that? You have no right!" Lan was incensed, and she threw her weapons on the floor.

"There will be plenty of other days when you can swing a sword and shoot an arrow."

Lan crossed her arms. "I don't _swing_ a sword." She said petulantly.

Guniang gave an innocent smile. "Whatever you say. So, tell me, Lady Lan Chi," she indicated that the girl should sit, and Lan reluctantly obeyed. "All about yourself." She seated herself nearby, and Lan noted how gracefully she sat.

Lan's lip stuck out belligerently. "There's nothing to tell."

"On the contrary. You are obviously highly skilled with –" she waved a languid hand at the weapons scattered across the room. "Arms."

"I am."

"And you have an etiquette teacher, so that presumably means that you have some social skills."

"I thought a lady's maid just concerned herself with clothes."

Guniang smiled again. "Well, of course, there is that. But we also take an interest in the person inside the clothes."

"I suppose a hog in a silk robe is still a hog." Lan pointed out reasonably.

"I do not think you a hog!"

She had to smile at that. "Thank you. Now, Guniang, _you_ tell _me_. Why did you leave Azula's employ?"

The maid's gaze shifted to her hands. "I – I do not like to talk about my former employers. It is dishonorable to tell tales."

Lan shrugged. "Fair enough."

There was a small silence, and Guniang smiled. "Shall we go up to your chamber and look at your clothes? We can see if there are any foundation pieces that you are lacking."

Lan shrugged again. "I suppose." She led the woman up to her room, where they began going through drawers and closets, with Guniang making small talk, trying to put Lan Chi at ease.

She complimented Lan Chi on her varied wardrobe, and Lan was inexplicably proud – after all, she had not _sewn_ the clothing, but she _had_ insisted on all the colors.

Just then, Hua came to her door. "My lady," she began timidly. "Prince Zuko is here."

All color drained from Lan's face, which Guniang did not fail to note. "Hua, I am sure he is here to see my uncle." She turned to her new maid. "Please excuse me, Guniang. I should greet his highness, and – and inform him that my uncle is – is not here." She raced from the room.

Zuko stood at the bottom of the stairs, and a smile split his face when he saw her.

"I had a few minutes." he began. "I wanted to –"

"My uncle isn't here right now, your highness!" She interrupted in an overly loud voice.

Confusion showed in his expression. "I – I'm not here to see –"

"I think he's at his office!" She shouted at him.

He was puzzled. "I – I know he is. I was just with him." He tried to take her hand, but she avoided him. "Lan, what's going on?"

Guniang appeared at the top of the stairs, her interest in the prince's visit prominent on her face. Zuko caught sight of her and blanched. He turned so that his back was to the stairs. "Lan," he whispered, "what is _Azula's_ lady's maid doing here?"

"Prince Zuko," again, her voice was designed to carry, "do you know Guniang? Uncle just hired her as my new lady's maid."

"He did?" He was incredulous. He schooled his face, and turned to the older woman. "Madam Guniang, a pleasure to see you." He bowed.

Guniang returned the bow. "Good morning, your highness."

"I – I," his eyes slid to Lan's, "I was just hoping to see my uncle, but – I can see that – that he's not here – right now." He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but, instead, he bowed to both women. "Your servant, ladies." He sent Lan Chi a significant look, and was gone.

Lan gave a falsely wide smile, and turned to Guniang, still at the top of the stairs. For a moment, Lan thought that she caught a calculating look on the maid's face, although it was quickly masked, and Lan wondered if she had seen it at all.

* * *

Zhushou did not have many friends at the palace. He was a solitary man, as he had been a solitary child, and found few at the palace who could get past those very facets of his personality that had shaped him into the solitary person that he had become.

However, one of Zhushou's only passions in life, besides politics, was ostrich horses. As a child, he had been too timid to ride, but, since being in residence at the palace, he had squelched his innate fear of them, and had begun going to the stables – if only to pet and feed them.

Ma Hu, one of the senior grooms, and a young man about the same age as Zhushou, took pity on the secretary, and began encouraging him to try his hand at riding. He had even gone so far as to allow Zhushou to ride one of the calmer animals around the corrals, and, Zhushou, for his part, had begun teaching Ma Hu how to read, which was opening an entirely new world for the groom. Ma Hu, despite his inability to read, was not a stupid person. He was simply unlucky enough to be born into an illiterate family of farmers and farm hands, and Zhushou recognized this.

As a result of this symbiotic relationship, Zhushou and Ma Hu spent many of their free hours together. Naturally, Zhushou, who was always alert for ways to expand Iroh's, and therefore his own, influence in the palace, began paying Ma Hu for small tidbits of information. This pleased Ma Hu greatly – it not only earned him a few much-needed coins – it also provided him with a greater sense of his own self-worth.

So, when Ma Hu came upon a very interesting _tidbit_, his first thought was to go to his friend. Unfortunately, however, Zhushou's days and nights were very busy with his own work, owing to the upcoming war meeting, and also owing to the extra work placed on him by dint of being responsible for keeping Prince Zuko's afternoons filled. Although, ostensibly, Zuko was apprenticing under General Iroh, functionally, much of the time, Zhushou was obligated to oversee Zuko's education.

So, it was not until the very day of the war meeting that Ma Hu screwed up his courage enough to go searching for his friend. He knew where Iroh's office was, having gone there in the past for his reading lesson, but he had never made his way through the palace alone during the day, when the corridors were filled with bureaucrats and other _important_ people. He was afraid that his demeanor, and his groom's uniform, would give him away as an outsider to anyone who saw him. Still, his mind told him that the information that he had was important – important enough to break a few rules.

He found Zhushou alone, thankfully, and he slid into the office, closing the door behind him. Zhushou looked up distractedly, but, upon seeing the groom, his eyes widened, and his face blanched. "Ma Hu! What are you doing here?" He got up and came around to the groom, grabbing his arm.

"I had to see you!"

"What?" Zhushou looked around, although he knew that, with the door closed, there was no possible way that there could be a spy concealed. "The _war_ meeting is today. I don't have time. Maybe tonight, after General Iroh has gone."

"No! I needed to see you now! There is something – something I need to tell you!"

Zhushou looked at him with real fear in his eyes. "Has someone found out – something – about _us_?"

Ma Hu looked at him with confusion. "What? No, it's not about _that_! I – I _heard_ something."

Zhushou, once his fear had passed, returned to the astute, calm young man that he was usually. "What is it?"

"The other day – we sent a carriage and a horse out to drive someone to the port. Someone going to the Earth Kingdom."

"So?"

"So – I did not know who it was, then, but, I heard the driver talking later. He said the passenger's name was _Lao Chuai_."

Zhushou sucked in his breath. "Are you sure? Are you _absolutely_ sure he said _Lao Chuai_?"

"Absolutely."

Zhushou's sharp mind went to work, running through all the possibilities. There was, to him, however, only one _probable_ explanation. An explanation that would interest his employer _greatly_.

"Go back to the stables. And tell _no one_ of this."

* * *

"General Iroh! General Iroh, sir!" The man who hailed Iroh in the corridor raced after his quarry.

Iroh stopped and turn in the direction of the voice, and smiled. "Well, well, Captain Zhao! I did not know that you were in the capital!"

Zhao bowed deeply before his superior. He was a man approaching middle age, but trim and handsome, with strong features and sandy hair worn in a topknot. He smiled, and, although the smile did not reach his eyes, it showed off straight, white teeth. "General Iroh. I am very pleased to see you. I was wondering if you had gotten a chance to read my report – the one I sent you on reducing coal consumption."

"Yes, yes, indeed, Captain. I have it in my office. I was just going there now. Would you care to accompany me?"

"Yes, thank you, Sir." The turned towards Iroh's office.

"Have you just arrived in the city, Captain?"

"Yes, Sir. We docked late last night. We are here for Admiral Yu Shan to attend a war meeting today."

"Ah, yes. I will be attending that meeting, as well. I had forgotten Admiral Yu Shan would be there. I haven't seen him in years. Does he still have that rather unfortunate habit of flossing his teeth with a hair from his head?"

Zhao curled his lip in distaste. "Yes, unfortunately, he does."

Iroh chuckled. "Otherwise, he is a good leader."

Zhao said nothing, and Iroh chuckled again. "Your silence is speaking, Captain."

"I meant no disrespect, General."

Iroh smiled. "No. Of course, you didn't." They had arrived at his office, and Iroh bowed him in.

"General Iroh!"

"Uncle!"

Both Zhushou and Zuko called Iroh's name at the same time, and Iroh laughed, waving his hands. "I am very popular, Captain Zhao!"

Zuko looked at Zhushou with irritation, and stepped in front of the secretary. "Uncle, I need to talk to you about Lan. She said you hired –"

Iroh held up his hand. "Not now, Prince Zuko. Let me make you known to Captain Zhao."

Zuko gave Zhao a distracted look. "Hello." He turned back to Iroh, ignoring Zhao's bow. "Uncle, did you know that Lan's new –"

"Not _now_, Zuko. Captain Zhao is the very resourceful officer who brought us the suggestions regarding the conservation of coal in the navy. Have you read the report?"

Zuko looked at Zhao with surprise. "Yes. I've read it."

"And what do you think?"

"General Iroh!" Zhao interrupted, then, with an apologetic bow, and smile, continued. "With all respect due to the Fire Lord's _pre-teen_ son," his words were almost a growl, "I do not think him qualified to judge a report on the needs of the Fire Nation's navy."

Zuko bristled at this. "I'm nearly _fourteen_."

Iroh gave a small smile. "Zuko is very highly educated and has studied Fire Nation military history extensively. He has recently begun an apprenticeship with me, and I value his opinion." He turned to Zuko. "What do you think, Prince Zuko, about Captain Zhao's recommendations?"

Zuko's eyes narrowed at the captain. "Well, Uncle, although I find some of the captain's basic principles to be sound, I find his assumptions about the scarcity of coal to be unfounded, and frankly, I believe some of his mathematics to be _suspect_. Therefore, if you are interested in pursuing the subject, I recommend that you commission a _competent_ and _qualified_ individual to carry out a reliable study."

Captain Zhao 's face, as well as his hands, turned a deep shade of red, as he struggled to control his temper.

Iroh blinked at his nephew, wondering the source of such vitriol in the young man. "Yes, yes, thank you, Zuko. I will take your thoughts into consideration." He efficiently turned Zhao away from his nephew and steered him toward Zhushou, who, having witnessed Zuko's scathing setdown of the captain, was sitting at his desk with a white face. "Zhushou, please make an appointment for Captain Zhao to sit down with me, _alone_, and discuss his findings. Some time before the Captain leaves the capital. When do you leave, Captain?" The last was directed to Zhao.

"End of the week, Sir."

"Fine, fine, then. By the end of the week, Zhushou." Behind Zhao's back, he motioned Zuko into his private office. The young man, confused, pointed at himself, and his uncle nodded vigorously, and indicated his office again. Zuko sighed and disappeared, and Iroh breathed a sigh of relief. "Perfect," he smiled at Zhao. "Day after tomorrow – right before lunch. Why don't we have luncheon together after that, Captain? You can tell me all about your exploits at sea. I'm certain that they are fascinating!" He bustled Zhao out of his office and shut the door behind him.

"No disturbances for a few minutes, Zhushou. I need to have a word with my nephew."

"But, General, I need –"

Iroh stopped him. "Hold that thought, Zhushou."

Zhushou sighed. "Yes, Sir."

Iroh entered his private office and shut the door. Zuko stood at the window, looking out, his hands clasped behind his back. For a moment, Iroh wondered who the man standing at the window was, and realized, instantly, that it was, of course, his nephew. When had he grown so tall? When had he acquired the carriage of a prince? Iroh blew a breath out.

"Zuko, what was the meaning of that vituperative display?"

Zuko turned, a frown on his face. "What display, Uncle?"

"Your assessment of Captain Zhao's report was very critical."

"You asked for my opinion – I gave it. Wasn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, Zuko, behind closed doors, you give me your _honest_ opinion. In front of the person who _wrote_ the report, you say "_it's very nice_," or something noncommittal – something not so – disparaging."

"Why should I _lie_?"

"It is not so much _lying_ as it is being _diplomatic_. There is a difference, you know."

"And you think I should have been diplomatic to him?"

"Captain Zhao's star is on the rise in the navy, Zuko. Someday, you may count on his support."

"I doubt that." Zuko scoffed. "He's a toady, and a fool, and I refuse to _court _his approval!"

Iroh's face reddened at his nephew's insouciance. "None of us can see the future, so I believe that it behooves you to build bridges rather than _burn them_!" He slammed his open palm against his desk, and Zuko jumped.

Iroh closed his eyes in an effort to calm himself. "Zuko," he began in a quieter voice, "one day, you _will_ be Fire Lord. And much of being Fire Lord is negotiation and finesse. It is best that you learn now to mediate your emotions, and your language. To learn to make good choices." He shook his head. "I fear that you have made an enemy of Captain Zhao today. And, despite your beliefs, Zuko, you _will_ need the support of your army and navy one day. It is the only way for the Fire Lord to survive." He made a weary motion of dismissal with his hand. "Go now. I have to finish preparing for the war meeting."

"But, Uncle, I wanted to talk to you about Lan Chi's new lady's maid –"

"Zuko, I know who she is. And I will not talk to you about it. It was my decision, and both you and Lan will abide by it."

"But –"

"Later, Zuko."

His face shuttered. "Yes, Sir." He bowed to his uncle and left the office.

Iroh shook his head and sat down heavily at his desk. Zuko was still so hot tempered, so impetuous. He needed to think before he spoke, before he acted. One day, were he not careful, his impulsivity could get him into trouble.

* * *

**Author's Note: **The stage is set...and the cast is all assembled (we were just waiting for Zhao, you know)...


	37. Chapter 36

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just try to convince Jeong Jeong to brush his hair...  
**

* * *

Zhushou was frankly relieved when Prince Zuko left Iroh's office. He had been bursting all day to tell his employer what Ma Hu had learned, and now, he finally had his chance. He knocked quietly on the door to Iroh's private office, and entered when he was bade.

Iroh was also relieved that Prince Zuko had gone. Sometimes, the boy overwhelmed him. Iroh had forgotten what it was to be young – what it was to have a million different thoughts and concerns and desires and emotions rolling around in one's head, and he suspected that Zuko had more than his fair share.

Zhushou came in and took a seat in front of Iroh's desk. This was, in itself, odd, since Zhushou rarely sat in Iroh's presence. He always stood, as if to sit in Iroh's presence was either rude or disrespectful.

Iroh took off his reading glasses and looked at his secretary with concern. "What is it, Zhushou?"

Zhushou looked away for a moment, then re-focused his eyes on Iroh. "Well, Sir, I have had – word from one of my contacts."

"What word?"

"My – contact is involved with – transportation; I suppose that is the best way to put it..." he trailed off.

"And?"

Zhushou sighed heavily, as if the effort required to be tactful was too great. "He heard someone discussing Lao Chuai going to the Earth Kingdom."

Iroh thought a moment, then shrugged. "So? He _has_ gone to the colonies in the Earth Kingdom, as far as we know."

"Yes, Sir. But it is the source of this piece of information that is – interesting."

Iroh's brows furrowed. "What is the source?"

Zhushou's lips thinned. "The royal stables."

"The royal stables?" Iroh was confused.

"Yes. My – contact says that he overheard a driver from the royal stables say that Lao Chuai was taken to the port – taken to a ship going to the Earth Kingdom colonies."

A chill came over Iroh. Ozai knew. Ozai knew that he, Iroh, was looking for their father's secretary. He knew, and he had made certain that Lao Chuai was beyond Iroh's reach. But why? Why was Ozai trying so urgently to keep Iroh away from the old man? What did Lao Chuai know about their father's death that Ozai was so anxious to keep secret? Could it be true – what Iroh had suspected – what he had hoped so _desperately_ was not true? Had Ozai killed their father to gain the throne? Had he then killed his own wife, perhaps because she had known, or had been involved?

"Find out all you can about all the ships leaving in the past week – all of them, not just those headed for the colonies. Find out if any of them had any passengers – any elderly, male passengers. We _must_ find Lao Chuai – before he disappears _permanently_."

* * *

Iroh had no time to dwell on the mystery, however, for it was time for the war meeting. He gave all the information that he might need for the meeting to Zhushou to take to the war room for him, and he made his way there. His mind was overwhelmed: the mystery surrounding his father's death; the idea that Ozai might be involved; his worries over Ozai's reaction to Zuko's engagement to Lan Chi; his worries that Ozai might _discover_ Zuko's engagement to Lan Chi before Iroh was ready; Zuko's headstrong ways and unpredictable temper; Guniang's unwanted presence in his home; and, of course, there was the war meeting to concern himself with, as well...

He was not certain that he could handle all the problems at once.

He hoped that he did not have to try.

* * *

Zuko left Iroh's office, irritated. His uncle had chastised him for speaking up – for telling the truth. What should he do? What else could he do? He should _lie_ and dance around the truth and be false and _diplomatic_? He should be diplomatic to men such as Zhao? He did not know Zhao, but he knew men _like_ Zhao. Opportunistic sycophants who glommed onto men of real power, who hung onto more successful men as they surged ahead in life.

He stopped at the end of the hall, and fisted his hands. _What are you doing, Zuko_? _Do you think you're __**wiser **__ than Uncle_?_He's only trying to help you_. Zuko sighed. What kind of a Fire Lord would be if he could not take the advice of his own mentor – a man he respected above all others – well, all others except his father, of course. He needed to _learn _from Uncle, and from his father; he needed to observe them, and he needed to listen to them.

He needed to learn how to govern, so that, one day, he would be able to govern his country properly and well. And he needed to start learning now.

* * *

Lan Chi's day had been odd. Very odd. She had been prevented from training with Jiao Ao by her new lady's maid, and now she was seated at her vanity table while Guniang worked to straighten Lan Chi's hair with flattening tongs. The tongs, which the maid had brought with her, consisted of two metal plates held together at one end by a rod. The tongs, once placed in a bucket of hot coals, could then be used to straighten curly hair.

Lan Chi, leery of putting red hot metal against her hair, protested at first, but Guniang had laughed, and promised that she would allow the tongs to cool slightly before using them. So, she had, and, over the course of several hours, straightened Lan Chi's unruly mop.

"I think that you will like your hair like this, Lady Lan Chi."

Lan looked at herself in the mirror skeptically. "I don't know if you'll be able to do it, Guniang. My hair is pretty – wild."

"You should not wear it in a braid all the time. You are destroying it."

"How am I destroying it?"

"Well, you've made it all –" she lifted one of the curls derisively, "kinky."

"Maybe it would be like that anyway."

"I doubt it. Perhaps, if you wear it down more often, it will straighten of its own accord."

"I can't fight with it down. I told you."

Guniang smiled gently. "You should not think of fighting so much. You should be thinking of _boys_."

Lan blushed, and Guniang smiled widely. "Oh. Perhaps you _are_ thinking of boys. Is there one in particular who has caught your fancy?"

Lan looked down at her hands. "No. Not really."

"There must be _one_."

Lan shook her head.

"Don't move, my lady. I don't want to burn you."

"Oh, sorry."

"So, who is it?"

"Who is what?"

"The boy you like."

Lan looked at the maid's reflection in the mirror. There was no way she was going to mention Zuko. "There is no one. Really."

Guniang looked at her sagely, then nodded. "Well, I'm sure there will be – someday."

"Yes." Lan agreed. "Someday."

Guniang worked on in silence, and finally pronounced herself satisfied with her work.

"There. _This_ is the way your hair should look."

Lan Chi looked at herself in the mirror – and was astounded. Her hair fell in a sleek, shining curtain around her. She turned her head slowly from side to side, enjoying the sinuous slide of her hair over her shoulders. "It's – it's beautiful," she said finally.

"Yes. And so are you." Guniang gave her a small smile. "Whoever that boy is – he'll be like putty in your hands."

Lan's responding smile was lopsided. She could imagine Zuko's eyes lighting up when he saw her. She could imagine his fingers running through her hair, and imagine him bringing a luxuriant lock to his lips. "Yes. I think he will."

* * *

Zuko was determined. He had thought on it, and he was determined. Determined to attend the war meeting that he knew was about to start in his father's throne room. Determined to show his uncle that he could be diplomatic – that he could make good choices. Determined to show his father that he was a worthy heir.

He made his way to the throne room. Men in uniform filed through the curtains that led to the antechamber, and, with himself drawn up proudly, he approached the entrance, where two royal guards stood. He tried to pass through, but one of the men barred his way.

His hands clenched at his side, he glared up at the man. "Let me in!"

"Prince Zuko, what's wrong?" He felt his uncle's hands on his shoulders, and the older man turned him around.

Zuko indicated the guard. "I want to go into the war chamber, but the guard won't let me pass!" Although he tried to sound authoritative, his voice chose that moment to break.

With a hand on his nephew's shoulder, Iroh drew him a short distance away from the guards. "You're not missing anything, trust me. These meetings are dreadfully boring."

Zuko looked down at the floor briefly. "If I'm going to rule this nation one day," he looked at his uncle, his expression earnest, and Iroh noticed a lock of Zuko's hair had slipped free and was hanging on his forehead, making him appear very young. "Don't you think I need to start learning as much as I can?"

Iroh looked thoughtful for a moment. There were many things implicit in Zuko's words. _You told me to prepare, Uncle_. _You told me to learn the ways of the Fire Lord_. _You told me to prove myself worthy of Lan Chi_. _Let me start here_._ Let me prove to you that I am ready_. Iroh, despite a voice inside that urged him to deny his nephew, ignored his instincts. "Very well. But you must promise not to speak." He looked over his shoulder at the men entering the throne room. "These old folks are a bit sensitive, you know."

Zuko bowed. "Thank you, Uncle!"

Iroh put his arm around Zuko, and they passed into the throne room unmolested.

A number of men were already present, gathered around a huge map spread on the floor before the throne. Zhushou had stacked Iroh's papers at the top of the map, closest to the throne, and Iroh led his nephew there. They settled down, and Zuko sent his uncle an uncertain, excited smile. Several men came over to greet Iroh, and he introduced Zuko to each of them, so Zuko was obliged to stand and bow several times.

"Do you know all of these men?"

Iroh, shuffling through his papers, shook his head. "Not all. Most, though."

"Oh." Zuko looked around in wonder. He was actually in a war meeting! "What is the purpose of this meeting, Uncle?"

"Strategy for the next phase of the war in the Earth Kingdom, mainly. We may discuss the deployment of some of the divisions now guarding the homeland, if there is time. And some other business."

Zuko slapped his own thighs gently, excitement causing a burst of hyperactivity. Iroh patted his arm gently, hoping to calm him. "Self-control, Prince Zuko."

He smiled at his uncle. "Sorry. I'm – a little nervous, I guess."

"Just listen, Zuko, and you will learn much. Remember, you were given two ears and only _one _mouth – it is because you must listen twice as much as you talk."

"Yes, Uncle."

Feng, Ozai's secretary, entered and took his place on the dais next to the throne, and then, the flames before the throne came into life, and the Fire Lord entered. All in the room stood and bowed; he gave a nod, and settled himself on his throne.

One of the men, who Zuko took to be an admiral of the Navy, stood and gave a brief report on activities in the Mo Ce Sea. He was followed by an army general who gave a synopsis on a battle recently won near the town of Gaipan, a Fire Nation outpost. Earth Kingdom troops had been trying to take back the town for the past several months, and this victory was considered a success, since most of the Earth Kingdom troops had been either routed, killed, or imprisoned. A murmuring of approval from the officers followed this report, and the general gave a brief smile and nod before seating himself.

Zuko stole a glance at his uncle, who was busy scribbling on a sheet of parchment. Iroh felt his eyes upon him, and he smiled reassuringly at his nephew.

"Tell us, General Shu, of your army's progress in the northern Earth Kingdom." Fire Lord Ozai's voice came from the throne.

An older man, his gray hair swept up into a topknot, stood up. He bowed to the Fire Lord, picked up a croupier rake, and cleared his throat. "Thank you, your majesty."

With the rake, he indicated four markers on the map branded with the Earth Kingdom symbol, all clustered to the north of Ba Sing Se. "The Earth Kingdom defenses are concentrated here. A dangerous battalion of their strongest earthbenders and fiercest warriors, so I am recommending the forty-first division." He slid a marker topped by a Fire Nation symbol towards the Earth Kingdom markers.

The mention of the forty-first division set off alarms in Zuko's head. It was the one that he had learned about in the reports that he had read – the new division that consisted of seventy-five percent non-benders – a terrible, almost indefensible ratio.

Another man, seated across from Zuko, raised a hand. "But the forty-first is entirely new recruits. How do you expect them to defeat a powerful Earth Kingdom battalion?"

General Shu's voice was cold and a bit smug. "I _don't_. They'll be used as a distraction while we mount an attack from the rear." He gave an evil smile, and looked around at his colleagues in triumph. "What better to use as bait then fresh meat?"

Zuko's pulse jumped. _No_! He leapt to his feet. "You can't sacrifice an entire division like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation! How can you betray them?" His expression was indignant and accusatory.

Every face turned to the prince, dumbfounded and silent. Zuko looked around in some shock, and turned slowly towards his father as the flames before the throne rose menacingly.

He saw the horror reflected in Iroh's face, and he realized his mistake. "F – Father." He took a step towards the throne. "I – I'm sorry. I – "

The flames shot up, and Zuko fell back a step. "Prince Zuko. Leave us."

"B – but, Father –"

"_Immediately_!"

Zuko bowed deeply to his father, and, with a meaningful look at his uncle, left the room, his shoulders high.

He passed through the curtain and into the hall with as much dignity as he could muster. Once outside, he put his head into his hands. What had he done? What had he _done_? Uncle had cautioned him to be _silent_, and what had he done? He had jumped up at the earliest opportunity and had spoken out against a _general_! A _general_! What had he been thinking?

What he had said was true, and he did not regret _saying_ it – but, spirits! Did he have to say it during the war meeting? Did he have to _chastise_ a general – in front of everyone, including his father? To have done that – what an incredibly disrespectful thing to do! What an absolutely _idiotic_ thing to do!

He rubbed his forehead. What was Uncle going to say to him? What was his _father_ going to say to him?

* * *

Sitting in the war room, Iroh could not concentrate. Zuko's outburst kept playing over and over in his mind, and, with each review, it became worse and worse. He could feel Ozai's ire manifested in the high, crackling flames at his own back, and he wondered at the consequences of his nephew's words.

The other men felt the disquiet in the room, as well, for they seemed restless and unsettled for the remainder of the meeting, and, when the Fire Lord finally dismissed them, they left with a briskness born of relief.

"General Shu. Please stay." The general bowed to his liege's request.

Iroh, too, remained.

"Iroh. You may go."

Iroh raised his chin. "I would prefer to stay, my lord."

"You will go. Now."

Iroh's lip rose fractionally, but he bowed, and left the room.

He found Zuko without, and the young prince ran over to him. "Uncle! What happened?"

Iroh looked at him with exasperation. "Zuko, Zuko. What were you _thinking_?"

He put a hand on his head. "I – I don't know. I – I just thought that – it is _unconscionable _for General Shu to _sacrifice_ those men. I – I couldn't let that happen!"

"But was that the best way to express your displeasure? _Or to accomplish your goal_?"

"No. _No_! I didn't think. I meant no disrespect."

"Do you not recall the discussion we had only hours ago about humiliating people in _public_?"

"I know. I know! I'm sorry! What did Father say?"

"He said nothing. He is speaking with General Shu right now."

"What do you think they are discussing?"

"Repercussions, I assume."

Zuko looked off into the distance. "I'm in a lot of trouble, aren't I?"

Iroh sighed and shook his head. "I don't know, Zuko. I don't know."

Just then, a guard came out into the corridor. "Prince Zuko, the Fire Lord wishes to see you."

Zuko and Iroh exchanged looks, and Zuko, drawing himself up, nodded and followed the guard, with Iroh behind him.

The throne room was deserted but for General Shu, the Fire Lord, and Feng, forever in the shadows. The map on the floor was now gone. Zuko walked up the aisle on leaden feet, and prostrated himself before his father, his forehead on the floor. Iroh sank to his knees, as well, but his eyes remained on his brother. Ozai's eyes slid to his for a moment, then went back to his son.

"Prince Zuko. I am very displeased."

Zuko looked up at the Fire Lord. "Father, I am sorry."

"_Silence_!" The flames jumped. "You displayed _shameful_ conduct. Conduct _ill-befitting_ the crown prince of the Fire Nation. Conduct ill-befitting _my son_!"

After each sentence, General Shu's posture seemed to become more erect.

Zuko hung his head.

"How _dare_ you challenge General Shu – in _my_ war room? It was an act of complete and _utter _disrespect!"

Zuko remained silent, his jaw set.

Iroh looked between his brother and nephew, but remained quiet.

"Now you may speak, Prince Zuko! What have you to say for yourself?" Ozai slammed his fist onto the throne.

"My – my lord," Zuko began, and Iroh prayed that he had chosen his words carefully. "I – am sorry – truly sorry, that I disrupted the meeting. It was not my place to speak out. However, I do not – regret – or retract – my statement. You may think my behavior shameful, and perhaps it was – but I believe General Shu's behavior to be more shameful. _He_ has displayed disrespect – disrespect towards men who are loyal and faithful Fire Nation citizens!"

"_Prince Zuko_!" Both Iroh and Ozai called the prince's name at the same time, and General Shu's face became slack with disbelief.

Ozai was red with rage, and, when he spoke, his voice shook. "Prince Zuko, you have given me no choice. Such an insult demands satisfaction."

Iroh's throat constricted with fear. "_No_." His voice was just a whisper.

Zuko drew in a deep breath, knowing now what the consequences were. "An agni kai." He looked at General Shu, and then at his father. "Yes, Sire. I accept your judgment. I am not afraid."

Iroh found his voice. "No! Ozai! No!" He pleaded with his brother.

"_Silence_!" The Fire Lord shouted at his only brother. "I see your hand in this, Iroh! I see how you have attempted to turn my son against me!"

"No, Father! He has not!"

"Do not defend him, Prince Zuko! I see his treachery! I have always seen it!"

Iroh was silent. He knew that his brother, in his fury, would accept nothing that he said – no protestations of innocence or avowals of good will.

Ozai stood. "Tomorrow night, Prince Zuko. At sunset. Be ready."

"Yes, my lord. I will be ready. And I will make you proud. I promise that I shall." He stood, and bowed deeply from the waist. "I humbly serve at the pleasure of the Fire Lord."

* * *

Zuko left the throne room, and Iroh was allowed to leave with him. Had Iroh thought that Ozai would be at all amenable to discussion about the proposed agni kai, he would have stayed, but, with his brother in such a state, he knew that anything that he said to the Fire Lord would only make it worse.

Iroh drew Zuko down the empty hallway with a firm hand on his elbow. "Come, Zuko. We must talk."

"Uncle, are you mad at me?" Zuko asked after they were out of hearing range of the throne room.

Iroh shook his head. "It would do no good to be angry with you, Zuko. I am certain that you will have learned your lesson after this – it is rather a difficult way to learn, but that cannot be helped now."

He steered Zuko to his room, and, when they were within, he sat his nephew down. "I am going to go to your father tomorrow morning, and try to talk him out of this. Have him impose a less _harsh_ punishment – perhaps some penance or compensation to General Shu."

Zuko shook his head firmly. "No, Uncle. Do not. I meant what I said to Father; I am not afraid. I accept his decision; I deserve it. I was intemperate and spoke out of turn, and this is my punishment."

"Zuko, General Shu is a very experienced firebender at least fifty years your senior."

Zuko gave a smile that was surprisingly serene. "I am not worried. I just completed my genbuku, and I practice _high-level_ firebending daily. I doubt that he can say the same."

Iroh saw the truth in that. "I suppose that is true."

"Besides, Uncle," Zuko sat up very straight. "I want to prove to you – and to Father – that I am true to my word. That I accept the consequence of my actions. That I am a _man_."

Iroh sighed. "Zuko, you don't have to fight an _agni kai_ to prove that you are a man."

"But I will."

"And I cannot talk you out of it?"

He shook his head again. "It would be dishonorable for me to try to weasel out of it, or to have my _uncle _intercede on my behalf."

Iroh laid a heavy hand on Zuko's shoulder. "This is all my fault."

"How can you say that? You _told_ me to keep quiet."

"I should not have allowed you into the meeting."

"The fault is mine entirely." Another smile, this one lopsided, came to his face. "And I guess that I should look at it as an opportunity to use the agni kai drape Lan embroidered for me." His eyes opened wide, and his jaw dropped. "Oh, no! I forgot about Lan Chi! She is going to _kill _me! The _one_ thing she wrote when she gave me the drape was _"don't ever use it_!" And I've had it less than a month!"

Iroh stroked his beard thoughtfully. "She will _not_ be happy, that is certain."

"Uncle, she _cannot_ know! Please, don't tell her! I don't want her to know – or to be there! She cannot!"

"Why?"

He shook his head wildly. "I – I can't. I can't think of her in the audience. I – I won't be able to think of anything but making a fool of myself in front of her."

"She will want to know – and to be there."

"I don't care. She _can't_ know!"

"Zuko, how do you propose that I keep this from her?"

"I don't know, Uncle! Send her away somewhere! Anywhere!"

"What? Tonight? Where would I send her?" Iroh thought that Zuko was overreacting a bit.

"I don't know. Ember Island, maybe."

Iroh gave that some consideration. That was a possibility. It was far enough that word would never reach her before the agni kai, but close enough that the journey would not be arduous. He nodded. "All right. I'll go to her now, and send her to Ember Island tonight."

* * *

**Author's Note: **There you have it – my take on the war meeting! I **LITERALLY** watched "The Storm" at least a dozen times while writing this. I hope that you liked the chapter, and that Zuko was believable. I tried to show that he was at peace with the idea of the agni kai – until he saw his opponent, that is. I thought that the only thing that would give him a moment of unease was how Lan would react – it is obvious that she worries about him, and he did not want to face her. He would face the agni kai, but not his girlfriend. Typical guy! ; )

Next up: Some prep before the axe falls...


	38. Chapter 37

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just frost Gyatso's cakes at the Southern Air Temple (that does not sound good, does it?).**

* * *

Iroh left Zuko after extracting a promise from his nephew that he would take a tray in his room and go to sleep soon after. He did not want Zuko to face Azula over dinner; eating with Azula was enough to upset anyone's stomach, and Zuko was in desperate need of good digestion tonight.

He went by his office to brief Zhushou on the happenings at the meeting, but his efficient secretary not only knew about the impending agni kai, he was actually doing research on the legality of a minor engaging in an fire duel.

Iroh patted his arm with gratitude. "Good man, good man. Don't forget about Lao Chuai either. After this agni kai is over, I want to aggressively pursue him."

"Yes, Sir. I have actually already sent a man down to the harbor to start going over the passenger manifests for the past week."

Iroh sighed. "Thank you, Zhushou. You are invaluable to me – I hope that you know that."

Zhushou puffed under Iroh's praise. "Thank you, Sir. I do."

Iroh headed home after leaving his secretary, although he dreaded seeing Lan Chi. He did not know how he would convince her to go to Ember Island on such short notice – or the reason he would give for the haste.

He found her in the sitting room, practicing, of all things, the liuqin, the four-stringed mandolin she had played briefly as a child.

"Lan Chi?" He barely recognized her. Her hair was down around her shoulders, straight and sleek, with an ornate jeweled comb holding one side away from her face. She was dressed in one of her best robes and matching slippers, and her legs were tucked demurely under her.

"Uncle." She smiled when she saw him, and put the instrument down on her lap.

"I – I don't know what to say. You're practicing the liuqin. I haven't seen you pick that up for – years! And your hair!"

She dimpled prettily. "Do you like it?" She ran her hand through it.

"Y – yes. Yes, of course. It's very comely – that's certain."

She opened her eyes wide. "It took Guniang _three_ hours to straighten it!"

Iroh looked around, as if expecting the maid to jump out at him. "Ah, yes. Guniang. Is she here?"

Lan shook her head. "She went back to the palace to fetch the rest of her things."

"Ah. Well, good. So – she is working out, then?"

Lan shrugged, and plucked idly at the strings of the instrument. "I suppose so."

"Well, she has you looking like a young lady in a beautiful gown, sitting modestly, and practicing the liuqin!"

Lan took umbrage at her uncle's statement. "Are you saying that I don't usually look like a _young lady_?"

Iroh realized his error. "Er – um – no! I did not mean that at all!" He hastened to assure her.

"Then what, pray, did you mean?"

He gave her a sickly smile. "That you look unusually _beautiful_ tonight?"

She rolled her eyes. "Give over, Uncle. Flattery will get you nowhere. I suppose, to answer your question, _yes_, she seems to be working out. But –" she raised a finger to make a point. "If my choice is between kinky hair and _Zuko _or straight, manageable hair, and _no Zuko_, well," she lowered her hand. "I'll take kinky hair _and_ Zuko. Besides, he loves me _despite_ my frizz. Although I would like him to see me with my hair like this." She held a lock out forlornly.

He shrugged. "I suppose I understand."

"Yes. So let's get rid of her. I missed him today. He came by, for about _thirty seconds_, but Guniang was watching him like a hawk, and I had to send him away." Her face darkened. "I hate not seeing him."

"But you don't see him every day."

She colored briefly. "I – I know. But today was my day to see him, and I didn't – beyond "_hello, Prince Zuko_.""

He squeezed her hand.

She turned her hand into his. "So, tell me; I know you saw him. How is he? Is he missing me?"

He was not prepared for that question, so his delay in answering was perhaps overlong. "Oh – oh, he's _fine_. Yes, fine. We had a good afternoon – working together – in my office."

She smiled. "Can he come over for dinner tomorrow? Cook agreed to delay the pork and pea pods until then." A sudden thought came to her. "Oh! You haven't eaten. Let me call for your meal." She moved as if to summon a servant, but he kept a firm grip on her.

"I'm not very hungry. I had – a snack in the office." He lied.

"Oh, okay. Well, don't do that tomorrow. I don't want you to ruin your dinner. You can bring Zuko home with you. That won't look too suspicious, will it? Oh, will Guniang be gone by then?"

Iroh took a deep breath. "Lan, I don't think Zuko can come for dinner tomorrow."

She looked surprised. "Oh. Well. All right. Maybe for pai sho, then. He _really_ is having trouble learning it."

"He said something about being busy tomorrow night – besides, I want you to do me a favor."

"Oh." She was disappointed. "Okay. I guess. What's the favor, Uncle?"

He plunged right in. "I want you to go to Ember Island for me – tonight."

She withdrew her hand from his. "What? Ember Island? Tonight? Whatever for?"

_Why_? He actually hadn't thought of a reason – other than the _true_ reason, of course. "Oh, well, that's a funny story, really." He lapsed into silence, searching his mind for a plausible excuse.

"What is?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Ah, well, the funny story is that – Zuko," _yes, blame it on Zuko – that's true, after all_. "was talking to me today about the times he spent on Ember Island, how _happy_ he was – how much _fun_ he had there..."

"Yes?" She prompted him.

"And – and I thought it might be quite a nice – present for his birthday if we took him there!" _Good one, Iroh_!

She considered that for a moment, and a smile started to curve her face. She and Zuko on the beach, taking long walks, hand in hand. At night. Under the stars and moon. Alone. "Yes, that would be nice."

"But –" he continued, trying to capitalize on his success, "the Summer Palace has not been opened since – well, a long time."

"I haven't been there since Aunt Su Hsing was alive."

"And I don't think _anyone_ in the family has been there since Princess Ursa's death. It needs to be whipped into shape. You and Hua could go – and hire some of the local girls to clean."

"Hmm." She looked at him shrewdly. "You could send Hua without _me_. Why do you want me to go?"

_Oh, good point_. "Well, after all, some – day – it – will – be – yours – and Zuko's, of course." Each agonizing word was drawn out of him. "And, you know, should you find any furnishings that need replacing, you could pick them out yourself. With Hua's help, of course."

"What will Ozai say?"

He waved a hand airily. "He has nothing to say. It may be the Summer _Palace_, but it's mine, not his – thanks to my father."

"Oh. I didn't know that. I wouldn't have to stay there until Zuko's birthday, will I? That's not until _next _month!"

"No, no. Of course not. A few days should be enough time to get things rolling. Engage a staff, determine if any repairs will be needed."

She looked at him uncertainly. "And you sure you want to trust _me_ with all of this, Uncle?"

"Why not? You're to be married in two years. Why should you not start to learn? After all, Zuko is learning to be Fire Lord. You should learn some of the duties of Queen."

She looked thoughtful. "I suppose." Her eyes turned back to him. "But why do you want me to go tonight?"

"What?" He was stalling for time.

"Why tonight?"

"Well, because – that way, when I – fire Guniang, you won't – be here! Yes! That's right! You won't be here! It could be unpleasant, dear." He confided to her.

Her smile was a little suspicious, but the thought of preparing a _home_, an actual home that she and Zuko might share some day, was too great a temptation. And she had always loved the Summer Palace – it was where she had spent her happiest days as a child; it was also the place she first met Zuko.

"All right, Uncle. I'll go." She pointed at him, though, and her face was severe. "But, while I'm gone, you get rid of Guniang. Because when I come back, I shall want _thirty _minutes alone with Zuko!"

He patted her hand and smiled. "Over my dead body, Lady Lan Chi."

* * *

Lan packed a bag and was ready to go less than an hour later. She was bringing only the essentials: enough clothing and shoes for three to four days; toiletries; her bow and arrows; several knives; and her miniature portraits of her parents, her aunt and uncle, and Lu Ten. Only the most important things.

As she packed the pictures, she realized that she had none of Zuko. She would have to remedy that as soon as possible – when she got back, she would drag him down to the open market, where there was an artist who sketched people as they waited. And then she would buy a very romantic frame, and she would place the portrait where she could see it as she fell asleep at night, and when she awoke in the morning.

Hua was already waiting for her at the front door, her eyes darting around the room nervously, and Lan squeezed her hands.

"What's wrong, Hua?"

"Oh, it's nothing, my lady. I just don't –" her eyes darted to Iroh, who stood there with them, "like traveling, is all."

"Well, we'll be there before morning. It's not a long journey, after all."

"No. No, my lady. Of course not."

Iroh had told Hua the truth behind the precipitous visit to Ember Island, and, although she was determined to keep the truth from Lady Lan Chi, as her employer had requested, she did not like lying to the girl. It seemed – dishonorable, somehow, even though it was probably in Lan's best interests.

Iroh escorted them to the stables to say goodbye, although his main reason was to make sure that no one that they saw spilled the truth. He knew that word about the agni kai was already passing around the palace, and he was resolute – no one would betray Zuko's secret to her.

"My goodness, Lan," he said as he handed her bow and arrow up into the carriage, "are you expecting trouble?"

She wagged a finger at him. "If I've learned _anything _at all from Piandao and Master Jiao Ao, it's to be prepared."

He laughed, and kissed her on the cheek. "You are a true daughter of the Fire Nation, my little duck. Always ready for a fight."

"Thank you, Uncle. That's the nicest thing you could say." She gave him a firm hug, and, as she held him, she whispered in his ear. "_Tell Zuko that I love him_."

After she released him, he gave her a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "I will, darling. I will."

* * *

"Can't I stay?" Guniang wrapped her hands around the poster of the Fire Lord's massive bed, and smiled coquettishly at her lover lying in front of her.

He put his hands behind his head and smiled. "Tired of Iroh already?"

She shrugged. "I miss you."

He stretched out an arm and she slid onto the bed and lay against his chest. "Did anything interesting happen at my brother's today?"

"My first day, and you expect insight?"

"No. I expect information."

She traced her fingers over his naked chest. "Well, now that you mention it, there was _something_ interesting."

"Yes?" His arm tightened around her, and he leaned into her for a kiss.

"Hmm. Yes. Your son came to visit."

His fingers tightened on her shoulder. "Oh? Did he come to see Iroh?"

She bit her lip, thinking. "I thought not. He seemed – as if he were there to see Lan Chi."

A dark look came over Ozai's face. "Prince Zuko has become very – troublesome. Very troublesome, indeed."

* * *

The carriage, pulled by one of the fastest horses in the stables, made very good time of the overland portion of the journey, so it took only about three hours to reach the coast. A boat ride of a similar length followed, and they arrived on Ember Island as the sun rose. Hua was very ready to be done with traveling; she had slept only fitfully on the two legs of the journey, but, although Hua was ready to fall into a bed, Lan Chi was eager to see Ember Island and the Summer Palace again.

They stepped off the boat onto the dock, and, in the early morning light, everything was bathed in a rosy glow that made Lan Chi give a contented sigh. She had so many bright memories of Ember Island. Memories of frolicking in the surf with Lu Ten and sitting side by side with Su Hsing in low chairs on the beach. Sand castles with Iroh and climbing the dunes with Zuko and Azula – back when Azula didn't hate her. Back when everything was good – back when Iroh was still crown prince – when they were a happy, whole family.

Hua took her bag from her and left it, along with her own, on the dock, and they went off in search of the caretaker.

The caretaker, Aiguo, had been caretaker as long as anyone could remember; he had been ancient the last time

Lan Chi had seen him, and, when he opened the door of his small cottage to Hua's insistent knocking, Lan realized he was even more ancient – and now deaf.

He surveyed his two visitors. "What do you want?"

"We want into the palace."

"Eh?"

"We want to get into the palace!" Hua yelled.

"And why would I open the palace to you two?" He squinted at them.

"Because I am Prince Iroh's housekeeper, and this is Lady Lan Chi, Prince Iroh's daughter." She continued yelling.

"Well, if she's his daughter, why aren't you calling her "_princess_?""

She reached out and cuffed him on the head. "And why aren't you letting us in the house, you old fool?"

He glared at her, but reached behind the door for his hat. "Well, hold your ostrich horses, why don't you? I ain't eighty no more, you know." With his hat and a huge ring of keys, he made his way past the two women. He looked at Lan's bow, slung over her arm. "Is there an invasion?" He shuffled his way up the hill to where the palace stood, forlorn and abandoned.

It was as beautiful as ever to Lan Chi, on stilts rising from the sand, white stucco with long windows all along the front, its roof of red tile with golden fluted edges, and long wide steps leading up to the front door. Weeds choked the garden, however, and grew from beneath the house and in the cracks between the steps.

They mounted the stairs and she reached out and touched one of the wooden columns that supported the wide veranda. It was cool to the touch.

Aiguo fumbled with the keys on the ring until he found one that elicited an "_aha_" from him, and he fit it in the lock. It did not turn, however, and he swore and chose another key, and then another, and another, until he found the one that opened the double doors.

They swung open on rusty hinges, and Lan got her first glimpse of the formerly grand Summer Palace. Dust motes danced in the light and cobwebs shimmered lazily in the cool breeze that came in.

"Oh, my." Hua entered quietly, as if loud footsteps might wake the memories that crowded the house. "What a mess." Dust covers obscured everything but for the paintings on the wall and several large vases that lined the room. "We have our work cut out for us, my lady."

"It will take until Zuko's birthday to get this place cleaned up." Lan Chi ran a finger along a dusty banister.

"Aiguo, didn't the Fire Lord leave _any _staff here besides you to look after the place?"

"Nope. After the old Fire Lord died, the new one just closed it all up."

"Aiguo, could you please go fetch our bags from the dock?" Hua took off her coat and hung it on the rack inside the front door. "We'll get started here."

Aiguo nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"And find some local girls to come clean. We'll need all the help that we can get."

The old man nodded and took himself off while Lan and Hua began stripping the covers off of all of the furniture in the room. They bundled them all into a corner and Hua stood in the middle of the room and surveyed their surroundings. "I should see if I can find cleaning supplies. I'll go check in the laundry room. Perhaps you can go upstairs and see if there are any chambers that can be slept in tonight. After all, you can't sleep in the nursery anymore."

Lan sighed. "I suppose not."

She climbed the stairs to the second floor slowly. A painting of Ozai's family hung on the wall opposite the stairwell, and she walked up to it. It looked to have been painted about the time she came to live with Iroh and Su Hsing. It was a good likeness of them, but lifeless. Their eyes looked dead. Perhaps it was not a lifeless portrait, though; perhaps they were just lifeless _in_ the portrait. A family held captive by a father's ambition.

She sighed. How she wished that Ozai were more like Iroh. How she wished that Zuko – and Azula, had grown up with a man like Iroh for their father. They would be so different. Things would be so different.

She gave a rueful smile and sighed, and turned towards the bedrooms. Although she had always slept in the nursery while she was here, she knew to whom all the bedrooms belonged. The first on the right was Lu Ten's. She did not go in. She could not bear that right now, with all the memories swirling inside her. Second door on the right – empty. She supposed that it would have been her room, had everything – not changed. First door on the left – Iroh's, with a door that joined to the room next to it – Su Hsing's. Next to it was Ursa's, also with a door that joined it to the room on the other side – Ozai's. The two doors on the opposite side of the hall were to be Zuko's and Azula's, presumably. And the room at the end of the hall – the Fire Lord's. She opened that door. The room was massive with a huge bed, with doors inlaid with glass at one end that lead to a large balcony.

She closed the door and stood in the hallway. She should investigate her room. See if it was habitable. She opened the door. A bed, covered in dust cloths. She pulled it off and dust floated up into the air. She coughed and waved her hand in the air to disperse the molecules. She walked to an armoire and pulled open the bottom drawer to find linens stored there. She pulled them out and held them to her nose. They smelled sweet, like herbs. She smiled. This room was habitable. She opened the wide balcony doors and left the hall door open to air it out. She did the same for the empty room next to hers, and went back down to the bottom floor to find Hua dusting.

"I opened up two of the rooms for us."

"Us? My lady, we can't be forgetting our positions, even though you're doing maid's work. I'll be staying in the housekeeper's room. I've already opened it up."

"Oh. I have to sleep up there by myself?"

She stopped dusting and looked at her charge. "Does it make you uncomfortable, my lady?"

Lan shrugged. "Just ghosts." She took up a rag, and shook her head. "No. I'll be fine. After all, only the living can hurt me."

* * *

By lunchtime, four young women had come from the town to help with cleaning, as well as an old woman who had been cook there during Azulon's life.

Lan Chi, released from the most labor-intensive of the chores, wandered through the house, opening windows and uncovering furniture. She came to a set of large double doors – the library. On rainy days, she had spent much of her time in this room. She opened the doors slowly. Sunlight muted by dusty windows shone on the shrouded desk, and on the covered chairs scattered around the room. Bookcase-lined walls called to her, and she peered at the titles on the spines of some of the books. Fairy tales, history books, novels of derring-do – they were like old friends to her. She came to the shelf that held all of the family chronicles, and, idly, she pulled one out and leafed through it. It listed the names of all the Fire Lords and their consorts, as well as all their children. There were also private histories, sometimes written by the Fire Lord, sometimes by their queens. Mostly boring stuff; politics or relationships between people long dead. She replaced it, pulled out another, and settled down on a chair she uncovered. In this book was the history of Zu Jia, the boy Fire Lord. She had always been fascinated by his story – Fire Lord at the age of ten, then the victim of an attempted coup before he was even fifteen. This history was written, apparently, by his wife, Ba Lin, married to him for eighty-five years!

"Eighty-five years. That's incredible. How old was Zu Jia when he died?" She flipped through the pages until she found his portrait, with his dates of birth and death. "He was ninety-nine when he died! Ninety-nine. Wait – that means that he was – fourteen when he married Ba Lin? That can't be right." She found a portrait of Ba Lin in the book, and, sure enough, it showed that she and Zu Jia were married at fourteen. "And had a baby at fourteen! Spirits! A baby – at fourteen! That's _crazy_!" She shook her head and laid the book down on her lap. Married and pregnant at fourteen – times sure had changed!

She gazed around the room, her eyes becoming heavy. Between the relative cool of the room and her lack of sleep the night before, it was not long before they closed.

* * *

Iroh did not sleep at all, and, when the sun rose, he gratefully gave up the pretense of rest. He dressed hurriedly, intending to see Zuko. As he was descending the stairs, he crossed Guniang, ascending.

"Good morning, General Iroh. I cannot find Lady Lan Chi. Her bed has not been slept in!"

"Oh, Guniang. I'm glad to have run into you. I sent Lan to Ember Island for a few days."

Guniang seemed surprised. "Oh. Oh, I see."

"I also wanted to tell you that – well, you are quite a superior lady's maid, but I think that Lan Chi is still too young to need your services."

"Are – are you firing me, General?" She was bewildered.

"No, no – not firing you. It just seems like you two don't – suit. I'm sure that Princess Azula will be happy to have you back." He passed her, but, as he did, he threw up an arm. "Oh, and don't worry. I'll see that you're paid through the end of the month."

Guniang watched him go with an open jaw.

* * *

Zuko was training in the courtyard, and Iroh was relieved to see that the young man's firebending was strong and consistent.

"Uncle." Zuko ceased bending and offered Iroh a bow. His expression was cloudy, though. "Were you able to convince Lan to go to Ember Island?"

Iroh nodded. "Yes. It was not easy, though."

"What did you tell her?"

Iroh shook his head. "A lie, I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry that you lied to her on my account."

Iroh patted his shoulder. "It's of no consequence. A little white lie to save her an entire day's worth of worry."

"And me, as well."

"You are not worried about anything other than Lan Chi's reaction?" Iroh was incredulous.

Zuko shook his head. "I'm really not worried about the agni kai. I'm prepared. I know that I am. My reflexes are sharp, and he won't be able to hurt me. I _am_ going to win. But don't concern yourself, Uncle – I shall not humiliate him. I have learned my lesson."

"Good boy. Let's do a little bit more training, then I want you to rest. I don't want you to be overtired."

"What about Jiao Ao?"

"I sent him a note last night. Since Lan Chi is not here either, he has the entire morning off."

"Oh. That's good. Will he be at the agni kai?"

"I don't know. I told him about it, but it is his decision whether he wants to see you fight."

"I hope that he does. I want him to see what a fierce warrior he had helped to make me."

"Oh, he knows, Zuko. He knows."

* * *

They were sitting in the shade of the cherry tree. He was dressed in the traditional clothing that he had worn at the genbuku – just red sparring pants and leather bands around the arms. She wore the robe from that night, as well, and, as she looked down at herself, the blue embroidered dragon began undulating on the cloth, and, struggling mightily, it pulled free and flew off. Zuko shot a fireball at it, but it changed direction and disappeared into the clouds.

He turned to her. "It got away."

"It's all right." She reached out to touch his face, but he was suddenly gone, and, in a panic, she turned to look for him.

He stood several feet away, his back to her, looking at something that she could not see.

She stood to go to him, but he was gone again.

"Lan!" His voice came from behind her, plaintive, but, as she turned to him, the walls of the courtyard began exploding around them in a shower of rubble and twigs. She shielded her face and began running towards Zuko, but found her way blocked by Ozai, grinning down at her maliciously.

"You will be queen of nothing." He turned away from her and released a huge, swirling vortex of fire at Zuko. He raised his hands up to his face, screaming, and Lan Chi screamed, as well.

* * *

Lan sat up with a gasp, and the book on her lap slid to the floor. Mid-afternoon sun was coming through the library window, and she rubbed her face sleepily. It had been a dream – a horrible, horrible dream. Why couldn't it have been a good dream? A dream in which she and Zuko were sitting under the tree kissing or walking along the beach, hand in hand? She retrieved the book from the floor and tucked it under her arm, then stood up. It was time to get back to work, anyway.

She heard Hua before she saw her, ordering the new maids to "_put some muscle into it_!" She was bent over a low table, rubbing a lemon-scented oil into its surface. She looked at the maid and demonstrated the technique again. The girl nodded, and Hua smiled.

"Good girl. Now do this table, and the dining table. And then the sideboard. And then you can do the Fire Lord's bedroom." She saw Lan, and smiled. "Oh, there you are, my lady! I was wondering where you were."

"I fell asleep in the library." Lan watched as Hua stood up.

"Oh, I'm so glad you got a little bit of rest. I tell you – I am certain to sleep well tonight. Are you hungry, my lady? I am a little peaked. I'd love some tea and a few cookies."

"Yes, Hua. Thank you."

"Let's go along to the kitchens. The bellpulls don't work. Probably rotted."

They walked to the kitchen, and Hua noticed the book Lan carried. "What's that you have there, my lady?"

Lan showed it to her. "It's one of the private histories of the Fire Lords. Hua, did you know that Zu Jia was married at fourteen? And that his wife was also fourteen? And that they had a baby the same year?"

A look of disapproval came over Hua's features. "Well, what that history _doesn't_ tell you is that the baby almost arrived before the wedding."

"What do you mean?"

She gave Lan a sideways glance. "Now, Lady Lan Chi, I know that _you_ know where babies come from."

Lan blushed as she figured it out. "Oh, I see. They – before they were married. Oh. _Ooooohhhhh_."

"And Zu Jia's mother was _not_ very pleased. At least that's what is always said about Su Zhu. She didn't want Zu Jia to marry Ba Lin, but, with the baby on the way," Hua shrugged. "Didn't have much choice. The Fire Sages declared that he must marry her - because of the baby. It was a boy, too, so he became Fire Lord later. But not until he was _very_ old." They reached the kitchen. "Jasmine tea all right with you, my lady? There is not much choice." She clucked as she put water on to boil. "We'd better bring tea back when we come next month. Prince Iroh will _not _drink this."

* * *

Iroh had to practice a mighty amount of self-control that day. He found himself, several times, on the verge of going to his brother and pleading that he call off the agni kai. However, mindful of Zuko's request that he not say anything to Ozai, Iroh instead spent a fretful day in his office, accomplishing little.

It turned out that Zhushou's thought that a minor could not legally participate in an agni kai came to nothing. There was no precedence at all for it, and Iroh gave up his last hope that the agni kai could be avoided.

As the hour of the agni kai approached, Iroh gave up all attempts at work, and headed for his nephew's room. He found him seated on his bed, already clad in the traditional agni kai attire, which was identical to that of the genbuku – form-fitting red sparring pants with a small ruffled cuff, and red leather bands around his upper arms. He had the drape that Lan Chi had embroidered spread over his lap, and he was running his fingers over the embroidery thoughtfully. He raised his head when his uncle entered, smiled, then went back to his contemplation of the drape.

"This is so beautiful, Uncle. Have you ever seen it?"

Iroh shook his head and came to sit next to his nephew. "She kept it a secret. It _is_ exquisite."

"It must have taken _weeks _to embroider – maybe months." He looked at Iroh. "She really loves me." He looked down at it again. "And I love her so much." He sighed. "I hope that I don't fail her."

"How could you fail her, Zuko?"

"By losing. By making a fool out of myself."

"She doesn't care about any of that. She _loves_ you. And Lan Chi's love is no trifling thing – I can tell you that."

"I suppose so." He gave a smile that lifted only half his mouth.

A thought came to Iroh, then. "I forgot to tell you. When she left, she told me to tell you that she loves you."

Zuko's smile widened, and he gave Iroh a skeptical look. "You just made that up."

Iroh chuckled. "No. I vow that I did not. I'm afraid that it slipped my mind today – I was otherwise occupied."

"Worrying about me."

"A little, perhaps."

There was a long pause. "Uncle, I just want you to know that – whatever happens, I'm grateful. To you. For being my teacher."

Iroh recognized notes of melancholy and doubt in Zuko's voice, and he slapped him on the back heartily. "Come now, Zuko, my boy! You act as though you believe you will lose! Where is that confidence that you had earlier?"

Zuko took a deep breath. "I still think that I will win. I have no choice. My father will never forgive me if I lose."

"Don't be silly. Your father loves you – no matter the outcome."

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Well, let's just say that he'll love me _more _if I win." He stood up and placed the drape around his shoulders. "I have something I want you to give to Lan." He picked up a scroll off his desk and gave it to his uncle. "It's a note that I wrote for her to read before the agni kai." He shrugged. "I know she won't read it until after, now, but – give it to her anyway."

Iroh nodded and slipped it into his sleeve. "I will." He stood and gave Zuko a long hug, squeezing him tightly.

"Careful, Uncle. You're wrinkling my drape."

He laughed and released his nephew. "Come now, Prince Zuko. Glory awaits."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Although the house on Ember Island that was shown in the series was only referred to as a "house," I have decided that "Summer Palace" sounds much more elegant, and more in line with the vacation residence of royalty. So they are one and the same.

Next up: Yeah, well, you know...


	39. Chapter 38

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just clean the agni kai arena after all the duels...**

* * *

The participants in an agni kai were traditionally sequestered for an hour prior to the duel in order to meditate and prepare, and were kept separate until the moment that the duel started. Iroh walked his nephew to the dressing room and left him there with a hug and words of encouragement. He then walked to the grandstands of the agni kai arena, which were already mostly filled with people. He made his way to the front box; as a member of the royal family, his place was reserved.

"General Iroh! We meet again!" Captain Zhao came up beside him, a smile on his face.

Iroh groaned silently. He really did not want to make small talk. "Good afternoon, Captain Zhao. How are you?"

"I am very well, thank you. An exciting week to be in the capital, to be sure."

"Yes, yes. Indeed. Where will you be watching the agni kai from?"

Zhao shook his head. "I have not found a spot yet. There is some space left at the top, I see." He frowned as he looked up at the growing crowd.

"Oh, well, I am certain that there will be room in the front row with me."

He bowed. "Thank you, Sir."

They jostled their way to the front of the arena and found standing room there.

The palace's agni kai arena was unique in the world; erected when the four nations were at peace, it was planned and built by earthbenders and featured a fighting platform raised fifty feet above the surrounding area. The design reflected an earlier, more savage era when the bodies of those defeated in duels were left to rot at the bottom of the chasm.

Luckily for contemporary agni kai combatants, the practice had since fallen out of practice, but the chasm around the agni kai field remained, with the platform accessible by a removable walkway that could be extended from either end and was hidden, during the agni kai, by a large Fire Nation flag that could be drawn up and lowered by means of a pulley.

Iroh saw the crowd part, and Azula came through the gap, flanked by the Royal Guard. She sauntered up to her uncle and Captain Zhao with a smile. "Hello, Uncle. I knew you'd be here, pressed up against the railings, as anxious as a mother turtleduck."

Iroh wanted to smack the smile off her face, but reflected that the thought was neither benevolent nor prudent, so he contented himself with introducing her to Zhao.

Captain Zhao puffed up under Azula's gaze. "You are a career military man, Captain Zhao?" She asked, surveying his coolly.

He bowed in acknowledgment of her interest. "Yes, your highness. Nearly twenty years, now."

"And why are you not fighting, even now?"

If Zhao was taken aback by her inquisitiveness, he did not show it. "My admiral, Shan, came for the war meeting."

"Well, Captain Zhao, you are a lucky man – to be in town for such momentous events as a war meeting _and_ an agni kai."

"I am indeed, your highness."

They were prevented from continuing by the appearance, at one end of the retractable gangplank, of Zuko, his agni kai drape over his shoulders. He was accompanied by the official who would adjudicate the duel, and Zuko nodded at what the judge said to him. Then, stern and resolute, with a visible squaring of his shoulders, he crossed onto the platform to thunderous applause, which brought the merest ghost of a smile to his face. Iroh and Zhao joined in the applause, although Iroh noted that Azula did not clap, at all.

Zuko walked to the opposite end of the field of honor and took his position. He went into a crouch, his head bowed, one fist to his side on the ground and the other on his thigh, his back to where his opponent would stand.

As the victim of the transgression, General Shu was entitled to take his place after Prince Zuko, and Iroh waited with anxiety for the old man to appear.

The adjudicator stepped aside as a tall, powerful shadow came up from the bowels of the arena. He paused at the lip of the bridgeway, and a gasp, that seemed almost choreographed, arose from the crowd when the newcomer's identity became apparent.

Iroh's own voice, however, failed him, and he uttered not a sound. He turned to Azula, whose face was marked by a small, smug smirk. She caught his expression, and the smile grew. "Oh, yes. Didn't you know? Zuko not only showed grave disrespect to General Shu, but also to Father by speaking out in the Fire Lord's war room. Father simply could not let such an act of _sedition_ go unpunished. He's fighting Zuko himself."

Iroh surged forward, as if to fly over the very gap that separated him from his brother, but a firm hand on his forearm stopped him. He made to pull away, but a familiar voice from behind effectively halted him. "You will not help your nephew by interfering. Let him resolve this himself."

Iroh turned in confusion to see General Shu's hand on his arm. The two men stared at each other for a long moment, then Shu released Iroh slowly.

Shu was right. What good could Iroh do by putting himself between Ozai and his son? Humiliate the three of them, for which neither Ozai nor Zuko would thank him. As much as Iroh hated to admit it, he realized that there was nothing that he could do for his nephew. Zuko would, unfortunately, have to confront his destiny on his own.

Ozai walked onto the platform and the walkway was removed, the Fire Nation flag extended to cover the passage. He wore no drape, and he did not drop into the customary meditative crouch that Zuko had taken – after all, the Fire Lord bowed to _no_ one. The gasps from the audience had turned into confused mutterings and whispers – all speculating whether the Fire Lord would actually _duel_ his own son.

"Combatants, are you ready?" The judge's voice was loud enough to dull the sound of the audience. Zuko gave the barest nod, still unaware that his father stood behind him. Ozai was motionless.

"Then, may the best man win, and may the spirits have mercy on the vanquished."

With a deep breath, Zuko stood and turned, allowing his agni kai drape to fall to the ground, fluttering like an autumn leaf. He took a wide-legged stance with his arms in a double knife hand position, the expression on his face fierce.

A look of surprise and horror came over him when he realized who stood before him, and his hands dropped uncertainly. He seemed to fold in upon himself, his bearing shrinking until the heroic warrior disappeared, to be replaced by a small, scared boy.

"Father?"

Ozai stood stationary for a moment, and Zuko extended his arms towards him, palms up, yielding, in an attempt to appease him. "Please, Father! I only had the Fire Nation's best interest at heart! I'm sorry I spoke out of turn!" He lowered his eyes to the ground.

Ozai advanced on him, his figure cast into a dark silhouette by the fires burning around the arena. "You will fight for your honor."

Zuko fell to his knees and lowered his forearms to the floor. "I meant you no disrespect. I am your loyal son." His voice shaking, he looked up to his father.

"Rise and fight, Prince Zuko!" Ozai's voice was now angry. It was apparent that Zuko's display was angering him.

"I won't fight you." Zuko's arms slid forward until his torso was bent so far that his forehead nearly touched the floor, abasing himself to his father.

Ozai stopped a mere two feet from his son's prostrate form. "You _will_ learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher!"

His arms quivering, and tears in his eyes, Zuko straightened somewhat, and lifted his face to his father in one last appeal.

Ozai drew his right arm back and a fireball formed at his fist. With a slow, deliberate movement, his hand shot forward, and he released the fire directly into his son's face.

The scream torn from Zuko's throat was almost inhuman in its intensity and anguish. The Fire Lord sneered down at his only son in disgust as the boy writhed on the floor in front of him. He turned away from the broken and bleeding figure before him.

As he walked across the platform, the Fire Nation banner was hastily lifted and the gangplank rolled into position. Without breaking his rhythm, the most powerful man in the world walked from the field, disapproval and loathing for his son written in his long, straight spine.

Iroh had already begun pushing through the crowd, trying to reach his tattered nephew. He noted Azula staring with unholy glee at her injured brother, as if she took joy in seeing him brought low. A shudder of revulsion passed through the old man. _What is wrong with that child_? He asked himself.

As Iroh rushed towards the walkway to the agni kai area, he was relieved that there were already two doctors crouched around the young prince. They tried to lift the injured boy to his feet, but he had balled himself into a fetal position, his hands cupping his burned face. The smell of burnt flesh and hair was thick in the air, and Zuko whimpered in pain. Iroh hurried over to him, and with a nod to the doctors, the three of them lifted him from the floor in a prone position.

"Father?" Zuko asked hoarsely.

"It is your Uncle Iroh."

Zuko fell limp, as if all remaining strength had been drained from him. The three men carried him awkwardly over the bridge and towards the doors that led to the fighters' waiting areas. A sea of faces looked upon them with horror and morbid fascination as they passed, the injured boy a dead weight in their arms.

They pushed into the waiting area and laid Zuko gently down on a low, backless sofa. One of the doctors fetched a basin of cool water, and squeezed out a cottony cloth.

"Put your hands down, please, Prince Zuko," he instructed softly.

Zuko did not move, his hands still covering his injuries. Tears were streaming from his uninjured eye, and he shook his head. "Leave me alone." His voice was choked with sobs.

"Zuko!" Iroh whispered firmly. "Let us see it. The doctors cannot help you if you do not allow them to see it."

"I don't care."

"Zuko, they must check your eye! Put your hands down, Nephew!"

The boy allowed his uncle to slowly lower his arms to his chest.

The skin around his left eye from the curve of his nose outward, over his ear and into his hairline, was seared to a bloody, blistered mess. His eyebrow was completely obliterated, and the hair above his ear was either burned away or shortened and deformed by the flames. Iroh, who had seen hundred, if not thousands, of war injuries, and had even cradled the still figure of his own son in death, was sick to his stomach.

The doctors looked at each other briefly in grim acknowledgment of the severity of the wound.

"Prince Zuko," one said, "we need to clean the wound with cool water. I'm sorry – it may hurt."

"Don't touch me." The injured boy turned away.

"Zuko, please, listen to the doctors." Iroh pleaded. "They are here to _help _you. Let them."

"Yes, Prince Zuko. We must clean and examine the wound. We can mitigate the damage and possibly the pain if we take care of it quickly."

At the thought that the pain might be alleviated, Zuko allowed them to gently press the cloth against his skin. Ragged breaths were torn from him at the contact, and he tried to pull away.

"Please, Prince Zuko. I know this hurts, but we must treat it." The doctor turned to Iroh. "We have to clean the area thoroughly. If his hair sticks to the wound, it could become infected. I fear that we must shave his head."

"No!" Zuko tried to sit up, but Iroh restrained him.

"Zuko, it is only hair. It will grow back."

Zuko lay back down. "Leave the queue. Please." The queue, so integral to the Fire Nation culture, was sacred to the prince.

"Yes, Zuko. We will leave it."

The doctors worked for two long hours on the Prince's injured face, carefully clearing away the remnants of burnt flesh and hair and cleaning the wound as best they could. They took a razor and, under Iroh's supervision, shaved away all of the prince's fine, black hair, save for a diamond at the crown of his head, and they were able to salvage much of his queue.

"There," Iroh whispered into his nephew's good ear when they were done. "It is in the style of the Sun Warriors, Prince Zuko. The fiercest warriors to ever walk the Earth."

Mindful of Zuko's cries of pain, the doctors then covered the affected area with a thick layer of salve. After they were done, one of the doctors drew Iroh away. "We do not know the state of his sight in that eye. The eyelid is too damaged right now to even open. I think it best that we allow it to heal covered by a bandage, to minimize his attempts to open it. It should heal faster, as well."

Iroh nodded. "Yes. I understand." He walked back and squatted down by his nephew. His heart broke at the sight of the Prince's handsome face, now destroyed by his own father's ire. "Zuko," he said softly. "The doctors want to bandage the side of your face to allow it to heal more quickly. They believe, if it is covered, and if you do not try to open your eye, that it will be better in the end."

Zuko nodded.

Iroh patted his shoulder. "Good boy."

The doctors wound a loose bandage around the damaged area and secured it behind the boy's queue. "Come, Prince Zuko, we will carry you to your chamber now."

He shook his head and stood up shakily. "No. I will not be carried anywhere. I can walk." He drew himself erect, and marched slowly, although unsteadily, through the doors to the arena. There were still a few people milling about, and, at the sight of the Crown Prince, all eyes turned to him. He let his good eye drift around the crowd, as if daring them to continue to stare. One by one, their eyes dropped away, and, with steel in his spine, Zuko made his way from the arena and towards his room.

It was a long, excruciating walk, but Iroh was at his back, his quiet support giving Zuko strength. It was not until the door had closed behind Zuko in his own bedroom that he crumpled to the floor, his legs unable to hold him any longer.

Iroh and the doctors carried him to his bed, and laid him gingerly on the covers. "Your highness, we have a draught that will help to ease the pain, and will allow you to sleep."

"I don't want it." Zuko _wanted_ to think about what happened. He wanted to try to understand why his father had done this to him. He wanted to try to figure what _he_, Zuko, had done wrong. He had followed his heart, his best instincts. He had refused to fight his father, as he thought a good son should, but his father had not seen it as filial respect, but as cowardice.

"Zuko." It was his uncle again. "Take the medicine. I do not think that you will sleep tonight if you do not. A man needs his rest, Zuko. _You_ need your rest. You will have much to confront tomorrow, and you will need your strength."

Zuko turned one weary eye to Iroh. "Why, Uncle?"

The old man shook his head. He knew what his nephew had asked. "I don't know, Zuko. I don't know."

* * *

In the end, Zuko swallowed the bitter medicine, and fell into a fitful sleep. Iroh left the doctors to monitor the prince to ensure that he did not injure himself, and went in search of his brother.

He was angry at his brother – angrier than he had ever been in his entire life. Had Ozai known the contents of Iroh's mind at that moment, he would have been fearful for his life; fortunately, however, Iroh met with a obstruction in his quest for his brother – the Royal Guard.

They stood at the entrance to Ozai's private quarters.

"Let me pass." Both Iroh's voice and his determination were firm.

"We cannot, Sir." The words that came from the guard's mouth were muffled thanks to his face shield.

"I will see my brother."

"No, Sir, you shall not. He is not accepting visitors."

"You will let me pass, or you will be the worse for it."

The man's voice sounded weary. "We are obliged to guard the Fire Lord with our lives. Please do not force us to sacrifice ourselves."

Iroh blinked at the man, his rage suddenly gone. Would he bring innocent men into this? Men who sought only to serve their country?

He nodded, and stepped back.

The guard bowed. "Thank you, Sire."

* * *

Iroh went back to Zuko's room to find the boy sleeping, the doctors keeping watch over him diligently. Iroh stood over his nephew and watched him, and saw this his breathing was shallow, but regular. He looked so _fragile_ lying there – wan and thin, with dark circles beneath his visible eye.

"He should sleep through the night." The doctors answered Iroh's unasked question. "The medicine that we gave him was _quite_ strong."

Iroh nodded wearily. "Good. I have to leave – for a short while. But I will be back by sunrise or shortly thereafter. Should he wake –"

"We will give him another dose. At this point, sleep is best for him – for his healing."

"I am grateful to you – _we_ are grateful to you."

"We serve the royal family, your highness. The _entire _royal family."

Iroh patted the man on his shoulder and left the room. He had an errand to complete that he had no stomach for: informing Lan Chi.

He went straight to the stables and ordered Xuan saddled. He intended to make record time to the coast, and he needed the speed that the stallion could offer him. He looked at the moon – it was full, and, he could tell, by its position in the sky, that it was not nearly midnight. If he pushed the horse to its fullest, he could probably make it to Ember Island and back by daybreak.

On Xuan, Iroh made it to the sea in a little under two hours, and he left the exhausted horse in the hands of a capable boy at the local stables, with an entreaty to give the horse ample feed and cool water.

He found a waiting ferry, and paid the man handsomely to leave early. Once on the boat, he found time to simply sit. He put his hands over his face, and felt a heavy weight swing against his jaw. Zuko's letter to Lan Chi!

He removed it from his sleeve and regarded it for a long moment. He had no idea what it said, of course, but Zuko had said that he had written it for Lan to read prior to the agni kai. With a deep sigh, he pulled the parchment from its cylinder and unrolled it.

_Dearest Lan,_

_I am sorry that I am unable to see you tonight, as we had originally planned. I said something rash in Father's War Room, and have been ordered to fight an Agni Kai to redress the insult. I deserve such punishment; Uncle had warned me to exercise self-restraint, and I did not. However, I am not sorry about what I said – I spoke only the truth, and I am at peace with myself about that. _

_I am not scared of fighting the Agni Kai – I have been training very hard, and the old general I insulted is past his prime. Do not fear; I will not injure him, and I am sure he will be unable to injure me. _

_I have not seen Father since he told me that I would have to fight the Agni Kai, and I have not seen him alone at all. I know that he is VERY angry with me. There will be a steep price to pay when this is over._

_I hope to come see you the day after the Agni Kai – I do not want you to come to the arena. Seeing you will distract me. You are a great distraction – your hair, your eyes, your lips. If you are there, I am certain I will not be able to take my eyes off you long enough to fight! Ha! Ha! _

_I wanted to write you and tell you what is in my heart – it has helped my focus, because I know that you will be waiting for me, and that we have a wonderful life ahead of us. The next two years cannot pass quickly enough for me – I yearn to make you mine, and to tell the world how much I love you. You are my destiny. I know it.  
_

_I do love you – I hope that you know that._

_All of my love always,_

Zuko

Iroh rolled the letter again, returned it to the cylinder, and slid it back into his sleeve. Although he detested deception, he could not share the letter with Lan. It would do no good to show it to her – it would only sadden her. He knew that he should burn it, but he could not bear to destroy this evidence of Zuko's innocence and optimism. He was certain that he would not see it again.

He lay back against the cushions of the seat and slept, so weary that he felt in his bones. Before he knew it, the captain of the ferry was shaking him awake, and he found himself on Ember Island after only four and a half hours rather than the average six.

He stood below the Summer Palace for a long minute and looked at it. There were so many good memories here – his honeymoon with Su Hsing, teaching Lu Ten to swim, walking with Lu Ten and Lan Chi on the beach. And now, he would be forced to make a horrible memory – the night he was forced to tell his daughter that the boy she loved was scarred almost beyond recognition.

The doors were surprisingly unlocked, and he slipped inside silently. He went first to the housekeeper's room and woke Hua. He told her quickly what had happened, and found out from her that Lan Chi was sleeping in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

On leaden feet he walked through the house, demons and ghosts of the past dogging him until he reached her room. He opened the door and walked in, lighting a small flame in his hand. He saw a torch on the wall, and threw the flame at it, extinguishing his own.

She lay asleep, one hand thrown up next to her face, one resting on her stomach. His heart broke for her; ever since he had taken her in, he had worked for her happiness, but, for the most part, her life had been marked by struggles and pain.

He had to smile, however, at her habits: her bow and arrows were at her bedside, ready in case she needed them, and the family portraits were clustered together on the table next to her head. He sat down beside her, and gently shook her awake.

"Lan. Wake up. It's Uncle Iroh. Come, Little Duck. Wake now."

She finally stirred, rubbing her eyes. "Uncle?" She was awake instantly, sitting up. "What is it? Why are you here? Is something wrong? Was the capital attacked?"

He gave her a small smile and shook his head. "No. No. Nothing like that."

She put a hand on his arm. "Is it Zuko?"

He marveled at her perspicacity. "Yes." He nodded sadly.

A look of fear came over her features, and she grabbed his robe. "He's not dead, is he? _Please_ tell me that he is alive."

Iroh shook his head. "Yes. He's alive, but – something terrible has happened."

"What?" Her voice was small. "Is he all right?"

"He was forced to fight an agni kai tonight."

"_What_? An agni kai? That – that can't be! He would tell me – something as important as that. Is he all right?" She repeated, and her grip on him tightened. "Was he hurt?"

He nodded.

She threw back the covers. "I – I have to go to him. Oh, Uncle! I _must_ go to him. How bad is it? How soon can we get there?"

He grabbed her arms to still her. "No. You cannot go."

"What?" She was perplexed. "No!" She began to struggle. "_I_ _have to go to him_! I can help!"

Iroh shook his head. "No."

"But, Uncle, I can –" She continued to try to wiggle out of his hands.

His grasp on her was like iron. "No. I cannot allow you to do that."

"_But I can help him!_"

"I know that you can, my dear. But doing so would endanger you! And I _won't_ allow that."

She shook her head. "But he _needs _me, Uncle. I can do it – I can face whatever anyone says about me – whatever happens, I don't care, Uncle, he –"

He cut her off again. "The agni kai was against his father, Lan Chi."

She stilled. "He fought Ozai?"

Iroh shook his head. "No. Zuko refused to fight, and it – enraged my brother. He – allowed his anger to overcome him. That's why I cannot let you help Zuko. No matter how it breaks my heart, this _cannot_ be undone. Should the Fire Lord discover that you _helped _Zuko, I cannot even guess his reaction. I would fear for your safety."

"But, Uncle, how can I let it be? If he's _hurt_, and I can help him, I must!" Tears came to her eyes. "I can't let him be hurt. He _needs_ me, Uncle! I can't. I can't. _I just can't _–" She shook her head repeatedly. "I can't let him be in pain. I can't stay away from him, Uncle. I can't! Don't you understand?"

"I understand. Of course, I understand. But Zuko will survive." He patted her hand awkwardly. "I am going back to the palace now to speak to my brother about further punishment."

"_Further_ punishment? Wasn't the agni kai his _punishment_? Wasn't that _enough_?"

"No. Not if I know my brother."

"How badly is he hurt? _Tell me_. Don't try to spare me. I want the truth." She shook him.

"The fire hit him – directly in the face."

She lost her breath, and it took her a moment to regain. "What?" She thought she had misheard. "His _face_?"

He nodded. "His eye. His left eye and ear. They were burned very severely."

She looked away, as if trying to digest his words. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Tears began falling down her cheeks in earnest, and she turned back to Iroh. "_Please_ let me go to him, Uncle. I don't care what happened. I don't care what he looks like. _I don't care_. _Please _just let me see him."

"I cannot let you go back to the capital until I see which way the wind blows, Lan. Ozai – there is something _wrong_ with him, and, after this, I do not trust him. You _must _stay here."

"I must see him, Uncle. Please let me see him." She pleaded again, desperate. "Don't leave me here. I couldn't bear it."

"You must bear it. You must be strong – for Zuko. If he can bear the physical pain, then you can bear staying here."

She began sobbing into her hands, and he stroked her head. He was silent for many long moments, listening to her cry. "Tell you what," he began, pulling her hands from her face, much as he had done, hours before, for Zuko. "I will bring him here to recuperate. In a few days. And we three will stay here until his birthday. Would you like that?"

The tears did not abate. "How can you do that? Ozai will not allow it. Especially if he knows that I am here."

"It's simple. I will not take "_no"_ for an answer. And who will gainsay me? I am the Dragon of the West, after all."

She smiled, and wiped her eyes. "None will dare."

"No." He hugged her. "No one will."

Gathered in his arms, she was reminded of being a little girl, of having all her ills soothed by him. She closed her eyes, more at peace. But one thing nagged at her, and she gave it voice. "Uncle," she asked quietly, "why did he do it?"

Iroh knew who _"he"_ was – and he knew what she was asking. She asked the same question of him that Zuko had asked.

"I do not know, Duck. I do not know."

* * *

Lan Chi walked Iroh to the ferry. The night was still young – it was, perhaps only a few hours past midnight. Although Iroh would not make it back to the capital by sunrise, he was sure to get there long before noon, which had to be soon enough. After all, it was not as if he could fly there.

He kissed her on the cheek. "Go back to sleep, Little Duck. You have a lot of hard work over the next few days – getting the house ready for your men to come stay."

She gave a small smile. "_My men_. I like that." She sobered. "But I don't think that I will get much sleep. I don't really – feel like it."

"But you must. We all must steal what rest we can."

She shook her head. "I think I'll sit on the beach for a while. You know that water – soothes me."

"Yes." He put his hand on her cheek fondly. "Your element. But just be cautious."

"It's a full moon, Uncle. I'll be fine."

He nodded silently, and she covered his hand with hers.

Tears came to her eyes again, but she wiped them away impatiently. "Tell – Zuko that I love him. That I love him more than life. That I am praying for him. That I _don't care_ what has happened. Tell him that I am waiting for him here. That I will _always_ wait for him." She nodded. "Can you remember all of that?"

He chuckled. "I think so. You love him more than life. You're praying for him. You don't care what has happened, and you are waiting for him."

"And I will _always_ wait for him. Don't forget that. It's important."

"Yes. I will remember."

"You promise?"

"Yes. I promise."

"Okay." She stepped back, and their hands dropped. "Be safe. Oh. I forgot." She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "That kiss is for you. And this," she kissed him on the other cheek," this is for Zuko." She blushed. "Al – although I usually kiss him a bit – differently."

"I understand. I will convey your kiss – appropriately."

"Thank you." She stepped back again. "I love you, Uncle."

"And I love you, my little duck."

"I will see you in a few days."

"Yes."

She began to cry again. "Take care of him, please."

"I will." He stepped onto the boat, and, as it drew away from the dock, she raised a hand in farewell.

He lifted his hand, as well, until the boat turned, and he disappeared from her sight.

She turned to find Hua at the end of the dock, waiting for her.

"I'm going to sit on the beach for a little while, Hua. You go back to bed. I won't be long."

"Are you sure that's safe, my lady?"

She gave a bitter smile. "Who would be bold enough to trespass on what is the Fire Lord's?"

She walked a distance down the beach and settled facing the bay. She fancied that she could see the lights of the ferry going back to the mainland – the ferry carrying Iroh back to the capital – and back to Zuko. How she wished that she was on the ferry with him. How she wished that she could take Zuko into her arms, and kiss him. Kiss away his pain, kiss away the horror that he must have faced. Kiss away this entire day. Kiss him, and take everything bad that had happened into herself – she was strong; she could bear it.

She lay back on the ground, heedless of the sand, and stared up at the stars. She tried to picture, in her mind, Zuko's smiling face. She pictured instead the last time she had seen him, when she had refused to touch him because Guniang was watching. She wished, now, that she had throw caution aside and had kissed him and touched his face, and had told him that she loved him.

She began crying again, huge racking sobs that filled her throat and her lungs and threatened to choke her. She brought her hands up and covered her face and cried into her palms until they were wet, until the tears ran down either side of her face and into her hair and into the wet sand. She turned onto her side and curled into a ball and continued to cry, and she thought that she would never, ever stop.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** I will tell you, this was a hard chapter for me, and I hope that it shows. I wanted to convey, at the end, Lan Chi's utter _desperation_ to get to Zuko – her belief that, if only they were together, everything would be fine. The feeling that, together, they could face anything. I think, frequently, that is how love feels – that you feel that nothing can be bad if you are just with your loved one. And, of course, she knows that she can heal him. Not just physically, but emotionally, as well.

And, as to the agni kai, I will also tell you I had A LOT of trouble describing the arena. If you look closely at the arena in "The Storm," you will see it has no bottom(!), so that was a hard one to wrap my head around. For example, how did the combatants get to the platform? I solved that problem, but whether I did it right – who knows? Still, it doesn't change the gist of the story or anything – it's just a little detail. But again, I watched "The Storm" multiple times. In fact, I will probably dream about it – which, all in all, is not a bad thing. There are worse people than Zuko to meet in a dream! ; )

I originally wasn't going to describe the agni kai at all – I was just going to go straight from Iroh realizing that it was Ozai who was going to fight Zuko directly to Zuko's scream. BUT, I had several people say, essentially, "I can't wait to see how you are going to handle the agni kai," that I knew I couldn't chicken out.

I hoped that you enjoyed it. I added nothing in but one word, "Father," that Zuko utters when he realizes it is Ozai who is to fight him. I also had the general that Zuko insulted stop Iroh from interfering because, if you look at the crowd scene from the episode, you can see him behind Iroh.

Also, I wanted to show, with the applause that Zuko received, and with the oblique expressions of loyalty that Iroh received from the doctors and from Ozai's guards (please note that one called him "Sire," a title ALWAYS reserved for the Fire Lord), that Zuko and Iroh are not without supporters in the capital.

Anyway, we REALLY are close to the end of part one. I am hoping to wrap up writing in the next few days, because I have visitors coming into town, and my time will not be my own!

Thanks to everyone for SOOOO patiently reading this VERY long story! Thanks also to bowow0708, who gives me amazingly fast turnaround with her beta reading!

Also, a big thank you to animechick247 for her FABULOUS Lan Chi and Zuko art! You can find it on deviantart, under the same name. Check it out!


	40. Chapter 39

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just keep Bumi's lunch box key for him...**

* * *

The sun had not even cleared the horizon when Lan Chi awoke to the tide lapping at her feet. Despite that, it was a slow awakening – a dawning awareness that she was leaving bliss, and that the day was coming. Unlike her dream of the day before, the dream that she was pulled from was a sweet one – one in which Zuko was whole and healthy, and in which he loved her.

She sat up, groggy, and ran her hands through her hair. The beautiful, straight hair that Guniang had labored over was long gone, and her hair was back to its wildness. The humidity and a night spent on the sand did not help in the least, either. In fact, the sand had helped nothing. It was caked on her arms and legs and stuck on her nightgown, as well as stuck in her ears and in the corners of her eyes. She even thought that she tasted sand. She sighed and stood as the water came up again. It would do her no good to get any wetter. On second thought, however, she realized that it would do her no _ill_ to get any wetter, and she waded into the water. It was cold and bracing, but it felt so _good_. She rubbed her legs and arms to dislodge the sand, and then dove beneath the waves.

She pictured Zuko swimming with her, clad only in his small clothes, and, with a smile, she shot to the surface and began treading water. She imagined his arms around her in the sea, and imagined him drawing her against him, his lips on the curve of her neck. Her fantasies came crashing down around her, however, as she remembered that he would probably have an open wound that would prevent him from swimming.

A thought came to her then, like lightning. He would have an open wound. And they would be _surrounded _by water. Wonderful, _healing_ salt water. She could do it. Oh, spirits, she could do it – right here on Ember Island. She could heal him with all this _lovely_ water. Not only _could_ she do it, she _would _do it. She would heal him, and consequences be damned! She had meant what she said to Iroh the night before; she did not care what people said of her, or what happened to her. Ozai could clap her in prison if he wanted. Zuko would be _marvelously _whole again, and that was all that mattered. True, he might end up with slight scarring; she knew, from experience, that healing should be done as soon as possible after an injury, but what matter was a small scar, compared to what would have been left behind otherwise?

That took care of his physical wounds – but what about his emotional ones? His father had given him this injury – it was not received in war, at the hands of a nameless enemy. It was not received in an agni kai, leveled by a mortal enemy. It was given to him by the man who had given him life. The man who was supposed to _love_ him, and care for him.

She would work to heal those wounds, as well. By giving him all of her love, by devoting her life to caring for him. She would hold him, and kiss him, and allow him to lay his head in her lap, and give him all that he had ever desired of her. If he could find solace or strength with her, _within_ her, she would give it to him. Gladly. She would give him everything. Her mind, her soul, her body. They were all his to command. He could lose himself inside of her, and perhaps find himself again.

That she came to this decision, so easily, was not something that surprised her. She had wanted Zuko for so long, at some atavistic, fundamental level, that the determination to give herself to him, now, was something that seemed like a natural conclusion. He wanted her, too; she knew that. She knew, by his looks and by the touch of his fingers on her skin, that his control, when they were together, was tenuous, at best, despite his declaration that they would wait – that they _could_ wait.

And, if nature took hold and she found herself carrying Zuko's child at fourteen – well, there was a precedence for it. A precedence that just might enable Zuko to marry her despite his father's objections.

She pulled her wet nightgown away from her skin and allowed it to billow freely around her torso in the water, imagining her belly distended with Zuko's baby. Uncle would probably kill her! She shrugged. She had dealt with his wrath before, and had always gotten her own way in the end. She saw no reason why this would be different. Ozai would be another problem, as he always was, but he even _he_ could not go against all the Fire Sages if they declared that Zuko must marry her – if only to legitimize the child. She smiled – she thought that she now knew what Zuko had meant, that night in the courtyard, when he had said that he knew how to force his father's hand regarding their marriage.

She emerged from the surf and, with a quick look around her, bent the water from her clothing and hair, and walked up the steep hill to the palace. The sun was just coming up, and the house was awakening. She found Hua in the kitchen, helping the cook with breakfast, and Lan hugged her from behind.

Hua placed her hands on Lan's arms for a moment to acknowledge the embrace, and went back to work. "Good morning, my lady. How did you sleep?"

Lan sighed and took a seat at the table. "I've had better nights."

Hua shook her head. "It's so sad about Prince Zuko."

She laid her head on the table. "Did Uncle tell you that he was going to bring Zuko here to recuperate?"

"Yes. We have a lot to do to prepare."

"I know. I'll get started as soon as I get dressed."

"Don't you want breakfast?"

She straightened and shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

Hua shrugged. "You'll have more of an appetite for lunch, I suppose."

"Probably. Hua, could you please tell Aiguo to hire a boat and a boatman while we are here? I don't want Zuko to have to walk to town while he is here. He is here to recuperate, not to walk his legs off."

"Good idea, my lady."

"Could you please ask him to have one here by midday? I think that I should like you and me to go to town later to look at bed linens. The one I have found are all faded."

"Yes, my lady."

"Oh, and have one of the girls make up Uncle's room for him, _and_ the room next to mine, for Prince Zuko."

Hua turned to look at Lan. "Is that a good idea, my lady? For you and the Prince to be so close, I mean."

Lan gave Hua a quelling look. "What exactly do you think that we are going to do with Uncle across the hall?"

Hua colored slightly, and averted her eyes. "Nothing, my lady. Of course not."

* * *

Iroh arrived back in the capital city well after sunrise, although it was still relatively early. The streets were already crowded with everyday Fire Nation business – soldiers, peddlers, shoppers, and people of all occupations mixed together and clogged the streets, and and he was forced to dismount Xuan and walk him through the crowds. The ostrich horse, very tired after two long journeys, seemed grateful for the lightened load.

Iroh finally reached the stables, and handed the animal off to one of the stable-hands. The young man, who looked vaguely familiar to Iroh, bowed.

"I am sorry about your nephew, General."

"Thank you, son."

He walked wearily into the palace and directly to Zuko's room. Mercifully, he saw few people, and none stopped him. He planned to check on his nephew first, then go see Ozai. He had several strong words for his brother, and he suspected that he would receive some in return. He just hoped that words were all that Ozai had planned for him – and for Zuko. He did not know how much more the boy could take.

He found Zuko lying on his bed, the doctors gone. He was staring off into the distance with his good eye, and Iroh suspected that he was reliving the agni kai.

"How are you, Prince Zuko?"

His nephew remained silent.

"Where are the doctors?"

"I sent them away." His voice was thick and rusty, as if he had been crying.

"Why?"

He did not answer.

"Are you in pain?"

The boy shook his head.

Iroh sighed and sat down on the edge of the huge bed. "Admitting pain is not a sign of weakness. The doctors can give you something to alleviate it."

"I want to be in pain."

"Why?"

"I deserve it."

"Why do you say that?"

"I failed Father. He was testing me, and I failed."

"Zuko, what happened was not your fault. You were in an impossible position."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Iroh nodded and put a comforting hand on the boy' shoulder. "I went to Ember Island and saw Lan. I told her what happened."

Zuko sat up, panicked. "She's not here, is she? _She can't see me, Uncle_!"

"Why not?"

"I look like a monster! _You can't let her see me_! Please!"

"She's not here, Zuko. She wanted to come, but I wouldn't let her. It's not – safe for her here right now."

"Please, don't bring her here! I can't see her!"

"Prince Zuko, Lan Chi told me to tell you that, no matter what has happened, she _loves_ you. What you look like will not matter to her."

"It matters to me! I can't –" His voice broke.

"Calm down, Zuko. Everything will be fine with Lan. I promise you."

"You can't promise me how she will feel when she – sees me!"

"Zuko! You must calm down. She loves you. She told me to tell you that. And that she is praying for you." He took Zuko's hands. "I told her that I will bring you to Ember Island in a few days to recuperate, and she is waiting for you there."

He shook his head and pulled his hands away. "No. I can't go. I _can't_. What will I do when she sees me? When she finds out it is my – face?"

"She knows, Zuko. And I _tell_ you that she doesn't care. She says that she will wait for you forever. She wanted me to tell you that quite specifically."

Zuko was silent. Maybe she could still love him, despite his – _deformity_. And the idea of being on Ember Island with her was very alluring. Lan Chi in a bathing suit, the water making the fabric cling to her in – imaginative ways. His hands running over her bare shoulders, her bare midriff, drawing her closer to him in the water. His lips on the curve of her shoulder, her arms wrapped around his neck, the sound of her laughter close in his ear.

"Maybe – maybe I could go. Do you think Father would let me?"

"I will talk him into it."

Zuko gave a slight smile.

"I nearly forgot." Iroh smiled kindly. "She gave me something for you."

"Oh? What is it?"

"This." Iroh leaned forward and gave his nephew an avuncular kiss on the cheek. "She told me that – um – from her, it would be very – different."

Zuko blushed. "Er – thank you, Uncle."

"And now that we have sorted out everything with Lan Chi, you have other things to think about."

"Yes. You're right." He took a deep breath. "Have you seen Father today?"

"No. I came here first. I'm going to see him now."

"Will you – will you tell him that I'm sorry?"

"Yes, Zuko. I will."

* * *

He left his nephew after convincing him to take more of the medicine that the doctors had left, and made his way to his brother's throne room. He thought that he would be barred from entering, but the Royal Guards stood aside for him.

There was a finance minister giving a report on tax revenues from the colonies, and Iroh, rather than blazing forward and interrupting, realized that discretion was the better part of valor, and waited patiently for the man to finish. During the delay, he took his time to review the words that he would say. As he had tried to teach Zuko over and over, planning and making good choices often made the difference between success and failure.

Finally, the finance minister shuffled past him, giving him a sidelong, rueful look, and Iroh walked forward until he was before the throne. Although he wanted nothing more than to walk up to Ozai and throttle his younger brother, he lowered himself to his knees. It would do no good to antagonize the Fire Lord.

When Ozai spoke, his voice was almost amused. "Well, well, well. Iroh. I was wondering when you would come to chastise me."

At this, all of Iroh's plans to remain calm evaporated. "_Chastise _you? Is this a jest to you, Ozai? Was it a _joke_ to burn and disfigure your _only son_?"

"He needed discipline."

"_Discipline_? Discipline is a spanking! Or taking away a toy! _Discipline _is not burning off _half his face_!"

At this, Ozai surged to his feet, and Iroh did the same. "He is _my_ son, not _yours_!" He yelled, his hand on his chest. "_I_ will decide what is appropriate punishment! Not _you_! _Your son is dead_!"

Iroh extinguished all of the flames before the throne and climbed the stairs with deliberate, seething anger. He came nose to nose with Ozai, and, although his younger brother was much taller than he, Iroh was not intimidated. "I know quite well that my son is _dead_, Ozai. I am reminded of it _every day_! But _your_ son," he poked Ozai in the chest, "is alive, and you have thrown him away, like a bit of trash."

"But he is _mine_, to do with as _I please_. Keep that in mind, Iroh."

A cold seized Iroh's heart, and he stepped back, his face twisting in horror. "Is that what _this_ is about, Ozai? You _exercising _your power? You putting _me _in my place? Destroying Zuko's life to show me that you _can_?"

"Oh, you have been always been so smug, Iroh! You have always thought yourself so _clever. _Brilliant, _glorious_ Iroh! The first born! The _chosen _one! Father's favorite. But _I_ am Fire Lord, Iroh, not _you_!"

"And we both know how that came to pass, Brother." Iroh snarled.

"Oh-ho! Now we come down to it. _You_ think you know everything! But you know _nothing_! Less than nothing! And what's more, even if you _do_ know, you _can never prove it_!"

"Because you've gotten rid of all the witnesses. The High Sage. Ursa. Lao Chuai."

"Oh, yes! Lao Chuai! How you _tried so hard_ to find him. To make him talk! But he is beyond your grasp now, Iroh." He sneered at his brother.

"And probably in a watery grave."

Ozai smiled evilly. "Lao Chuai was a _very_ old man. Accidents befall very old men all the time."

"So this has all been a plan to – what? Distract me from discovering that you stole my throne?"

"No, no, Iroh. You mistake me. The past does not interest me. It is the future that concerns me now – the future of the Fire Nation."

"The future of the Fire Nation lies in a bed, scarred and disfigured by _his own father_!"

"Lay that blame at your own door, Iroh!"

"It was not _I_ who wielded that fireball!"

"It makes no difference that I was the instrument, Iroh! You – _you_ were the architect!"

"You make little sense, Brother. I think that your wits have gone begging."

"I have all my wits about me – wits enough to know that _you_ broke your pledge to me. The only pledge that I asked of you upon your return."

"And what pledge is that, _my lord_?"

"Do you think me _stupid_, Iroh? Did you think that I would not discover your feeble attempt to wed that _whore_ to _my son_?"

Iroh's pupils constricted in shock.

"Oh, yes! I see, by your reaction, that I have surprised you! Are you _astonished_ that your strategy was unsuccessful? I would think that you would be familiar with that, after your _inspired_ strategy failed you at Ba Sing Se!"

"You did this because Zuko wished to marry Lan Chi?"

"I did this because he is an idiot, and a fool, and is too easily swayed by _bitter_ old men!" He pointed at Iroh triumphantly. "And even if my weak-willed son is still _stupid_ enough to wed her, that _Water Tribe child_," he spat the description, "will never sit on the throne. Ever. And neither will your pawn."

"You mean to put _Azula_ on the throne? Have you found some obscure precedence in an old scroll that will miraculously allow you to name a _woman_ as successor?"

"No need. I am a young man, and I intend to rule a _very_ long time – no matter how you plot my downfall. Long enough that Azula will present me with _many_, fine grandsons. She may never be Fire Lord, but she will be mother to one."

"What an ingenious plan." Iroh's eyes narrowed. "But how do you expect to bar Zuko from the succession?"

"It won't be hard, Brother." Ozai stepped back, an evil smile marring his handsome features. "But I am afraid you will just have to wait to see."

* * *

Unfortunately, for Iroh and Zuko, they did not have long to wait.

After leaving Ozai, Iroh went back to his nephew, who was, mercifully, asleep. One of the doctors had returned, and had, while Iroh was gone, replaced Zuko's bandage.

"How is it?" Iroh asked.

The man shook his head. "Too early to tell. It shows no sign of infection, which is, of course, excellent news, but there's still no way of knowing whether the vision in his eye is compromised."

"When will we know?"

He shook his head again. "We don't want to rush it – he should not open his eye and disturb the skin regrowth."

"My nephew is not a patient young man."

"Well, then, it will take those around him to help him become more patient."

Iroh thought of Lan Chi – as hot-headed as Zuko, and sighed.

The doctor continued. "It will have no impact on his ability to rule, of course. It will impact him personally most of all. But it's not as if he is fighting in the war, after all."

"What good is a half-blind firebender?" The voice came from the direction of the bed, and the two men turned to see Zuko sitting up in bed. His one eye was glazed and droopy – he was obviously still feeling the effects of the drugs.

"Prince Zuko!" The doctor blushed. "I – I meant – I just meant –"

His one brow drew down. "You meant exactly what you said. It _will_ impact me personally. Who will want to marry a man with a half a face? Who will be governed by a man as ineffectual as I shall be?"

"I – I am sorry, your highness." The doctor was beside himself in embarrassment.

"Zuko, how are you feeling?" Iroh came and sat beside him, his face a mask of concern.

He looked at his uncle with barely concealed impatience. "Uncle, are you going to ask me that every time you come into the room?"

Iroh smiled gently. "For the near future,probably."

"Well, stop it! How do you _think_ that I am? Half of my face is gone, I am probably blind in one eye, and I have no hair!"

"Zuko, I did not mean to –"

"To what? To _remind_ me of what happened? Believe me, Uncle, I need no reminder! My reminder _throbs_ constantly! My reminder is a big wad of bandage across my face!" He got up and snatched a piece of cloth off a chair and threw it at Iroh. "My reminder is a singed and bloody agni kai drape!"

Iroh caught the material. It was indeed Zuko's agni kai drape, and Iroh could see that it was, as Zuko said, partially burned, and it seemed to have blood on it. It must have been behind Zuko and taken some of the blast, and the prince's body as he fell.

"How did you get this?"

"Some _kind_ soul brought it to me earlier."

"Zuko," Iroh started, but his nephew held up his hand.

"No more, Uncle. I will talk of it no more." He looked at himself in the mirror on the wall. "I don't want to."

Just then, there was a knock. "Oh, spirits!" Zuko threw up his hands. "Has someone else come to _annoy_ me? Come in!" He yelled.

A Royal Guard appeared in the doorway, and Zuko stiffened. "What is it? A message from my father?" His voice became soft and hopeful.

"Yes, your highness. The Fire Lord demands your presence."

"Demands?" This from Iroh, still clutching the drape.

The Royal Guard nodded. "We are to wait for you, your highness."

Iroh and Zuko exchanged looks.

Zuko drew himself up. "Thank you. You may wait outside."

Once the door was closed behind the guard, Zuko turned to Iroh. "_Demand_? Uncle, what do you think this means?"

Iroh's lips compressed. "I don't know, Prince Zuko."

Zuko drew a deep breath. "I want to wear my dress uniform." He looked at his uncle and a glimmer of the old Zuko was there. "Could you please help me, Uncle?"

"Of course." He and the doctor fetched Zuko's best uniform and helped him into it. Once the foundation pieces were on, they carefully maneuvered the armor over his bandaged head and tied it on. His wrist guards and boots went on next, and Iroh pronounced himself satisfied with his nephew's appearance. "The new armor fits well, Zuko."

He nodded silently. "Uncle, will you come with me? Please?"

Iroh nodded and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Of course, Prince Zuko."

* * *

Zuko and Iroh drew many interested glances as they walked through the palace. Steps hesitated or faltered when Zuko appeared. Eyes darted to the prince's face and then away again in either embarrassment or shame. Whispers began after they passed.

Zuko bore it all with stoicism, his shoulders high and proud. At the entrance to the throne room, Zuko drew in a deep, calming breath. "I'm ready to face you." He murmured it for his own ears, and pushed aside the curtains.

His footsteps in the dress boots were staccato clicks as he walked to his father's throne. He went down on both knees, and bowed his head. He had considered bending forward and laying his forearms on the floor, as he usually did, but he was not certain that he would not pass out.

"I should have known that you would bring your _nursemaid_, Prince Zuko."

Zuko closed his eyes.

"Look at me."

Zuko lifted his head slowly and focused on his father's silhouette behind the flames.

There was a long silence.

"Prince Zuko, do you know why you are here?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Why?"

"To – to discuss the agni kai."

"To discuss the agni kai. Do you _really_ think that?"

"Well, yes, Sire. I mean – why else?"

"Why else? For you to _apologize_!"

Behind him, Iroh, also on his knees, blanched.

"A – apologize?" Zuko stammered.

"Do you not think that you _owe_ me an apology, Prince Zuko? You _humiliated _me in my own war room, and then you _refused_ me the opportunity to gain satisfaction by deloping. You made me look a fool!"

Zuko's eye grew wide. "No, Father! I did not mean – I did not _want_ to fight you! I could not! I am your devoted son – to raise a hand to you is – _anathema_ to me!"

"Do you consider me unworthy to battle? Do you think my honor is _undeserving_ of defense?"

"_Yes_! I mean _no_! _I don't know_! _I don't understand_! I'm confused, my lord!" He raised both his hands to his head.

"Then let me make this perfectly _clear_ to you, Zuko. You are no longer my son."

"What?" Iroh roared and jumped to his feet. "Ozai!"

"Father!" Tears sprang to Zuko's uncovered eye, and he, too, stood. "_No_! I'm sorry! _I'm sorry_! I meant no disrespect to you! I _am_ your son! I love you, Father! I love you!" He staggered forward and fell down on his knees just inches from the flames that separated them.

"Love?" Ozai scoffed. "Love is for the weak – the feeble! I demand _obedience_, not some meager sentiment!"

"I am obedient, Father! I will do whatever you ask of me! Whatever you say!"

"It is too late. You cannot redeem yourself. You have shown shameful weakness, Prince Zuko, by refusing the agni kai. You have brought dishonor on yourself. You have _shamed _me. You have _shamed_ the Fire Nation."

Zuko lifted a tear-soaked face to him. "Sire! I am sorry! I am sorry! It was not my intention to be disrespectful to you! I _am_ your dutiful son! I will do anything you ask! I vow that I shall! Ask whatever you desire of me, and I swear that I shall do it!"

A small smile curved The Fire Lord's mouth. "Indeed? In that case, Prince Zuko, I have a task for you."

* * *

**Author's Note**: I hope that you enjoyed this, the penultimate chapter, and I hope that Ozai's motivations were clear – a mixture of brotherly jealousy and hatred, as well as racism and paranoia.

I hope that you can also see the birth of the Prince Zuko that we know (from the series) in the second scene with Iroh in this chapter. He is impatient and angry, and becoming bitter.

You also get to see how Lan Chi intends to help Zuko. She is desperately in love with him, and heartsick at his pain, and she cannot bear to think of him hurting. Her solution is to heal him, against Iroh's express instructions, and she also intends to give him as much love as she can, in all ways possible.

We do also get to see that Zuko, despite his problems with his father, still has the capacity to love Lan Chi.

Up next: the last chapter! Really, really, really, really, really !


	41. Chapter 40

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN _NICKELODEON'S AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER_ OR ITS CHARACTERS. I just want Zuko to get his honor back...**

* * *

Zuko walked dumbly from his father's throne room, his mind numb. Parts of his conversation with his father harried him.

"_You **will** find the avatar, Prince Zuko, and bring him back to me in chains. Then, and only then, will I end your banishment. Then, and only then, will I restore your honor **and** restore you to the line of succession."_

"_But, my lord, he has been missing for a hundred years! Surely he is dead!"_

"_The Sages tell us that he is not. Find him and return him here. He will be my prize. He will be my prize, and we will win the war."_

"_But, Father –" _

"_Do not fail me **yet** again, Prince Zuko."_

Zuko wanted to cry. Find the avatar! His father might as well have asked him to lasso the sun. Find someone who is most probably dead. He clenched his fists. _No! He cannot be dead! He must not be dead! If he is dead, then I have no chance to redeem myself! No chance to redeem my honor! _

He stopped in the hallway in a daze. What should he do now? His father decreed that he must leave tomorrow, and there was so much to do to prepare. So much. He turned towards his bedroom.

In the throne room, an argument continued.

"Have you lost your mind, Ozai? Find the _avatar_? It is a fool's errand, and you know it!" Iroh was irate.

"Well, then, Zuko is the perfect person for the job." Ozai's voice was amused.

"This will destroy him!"

"It will make a man of him. As it did me."

"That is what _this_ is all about? Old grievances?"

"I spent four years of my life chasing the avatar. It is fitting that Zuko continue the family tradition."

"I should have protested, Ozai! I should have! I am sorry! I should not have let Father send you away – like that! But do not condemn Zuko for my mistakes!"

"He needs to develop discipline and self-control . This will provide him ample opportunity to acquire those."

"So you think that _banishing _him and sending him away for _spirit knows how long _will teach him that? It will make him bitter and resentful!"

"He will become strong."

"Or it will kill him."

Ozai was silent, and Iroh knew, suddenly, that there was no way to change his brother's mind. He decided to change tactics. "Then let me go with him."

"What? Absolutely not! You will not corrupt my son further."

"He requires guidance, Ozai! You cannot send him off into the world alone – at thirteen!"

"No. He must find his own way."

An idea came to Iroh. "You will be rid of me, Ozai."

Ozai looked at him. Iroh could tell that he was thinking about everything that Iroh left unsaid: _I will not be able to pursue our father's death_. _I will not be able to dog you_.

"Yes. Perhaps that is a good idea."

A smile finally came to Iroh's face. All may not be lost.

"But there is _one_ condition. A condition you will _not_ disregard."

Iroh felt a hollowness in his stomach.

His brother continued. "You will go _alone_. That – _girl _will – not go with you."

The hollowness spread.

"She will _not_ be allowed to accompany you. She will not be _on_ the ship or _near_ the ship. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Iroh's face reddened. "Yes."

"If I hear that she has gone with you, I swear that I will hunt the three of you down and put you _all _in prison. And that may not mean much to you, _old man_, but think of your niece, and of Zuko."

"She will not accompany us. I give you my word."

Ozai gave a bark of laughter. "Your word. How amusing."

"You think that, by banishing Zuko you are ridding yourself of _irritations_, Brother, but, mark my words, this decision will lead to your downfall."

"Is that a _threat_?"

"No. A prediction, Ozai. Ask Lo and Li about _predictions_. They are very _adept_ at making them."

* * *

Iroh left his brother in ill humor and went to his office. There was much to do. _So _much to do.

He found Zhushou at his desk, working diligently, as usual. Iroh came and sat on the edge of the man's desk, and Zhushou looked up in alarm. Iroh had never done anything so _informal_ before.

"Zhushou, I must leave the country."

"What?" The secretary stood, spilling all his papers to the floor.

Iroh briefly explained all that had happened. "I need your help greatly, Zhushou. The Fire Lord has ordered us to leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" The secretary was aghast.

"Yes, and there are _innumerable_ things that need doing before I go." He ticked them off on his fingers. "I need to have all my affairs wrapped up. All of my money secured. My servants need to be dealt with. I will need provisions for a _very_ long trip. I will need communications of _some sort_ set up so that I can get news. I need to transfer all of my duties as war minister to someone else – I suggest General Po." He stopped, and his mouth turned down. "I also need you to make arrangements for my niece to go live with her aunt in the colonies." He put a hand to his head. "Oh, Lan Chi. What am I going to tell her? This ruins – _everything_. Everything."

The other man nodded grimly. "I will do it, Sir. I will do it all – it is my privilege to serve you."

Iroh put a hand on Zhushou's arm in gratitude. "Thank you, son. I hope that you will _continue_ to serve me. Would you be interested in being my eyes and ears in the capital while I am gone?"

The secretary grinned. "Oh, yes, Sir. It would not only be my privilege, it would be my _honor_."

* * *

Iroh found Zuko sitting on his bed, a picture of Ursa on his lap. He looked as if in shock. Iroh sat next to him and put an arm around his nephew's shoulder.

"Prince Zuko," he began.

He cut him off. "I've been banished. I've been banished from my _home_ by my _father_. _Banished_." He repeated, and stared down at his mother's picture. "If my mother was still alive, she would have stopped him."

"Prince Zuko –"

"Don't call me that! I'm not a prince anymore! I'm an outcast!"

"No. You are still the crown prince, Zuko. The banishment does not strip you of your birthright."

"But Father said –"

"In order to remove you from the succession entirely, your father has to consult the Fire Sages, and they have to agree. They have not agreed, Zuko, and they are not likely to do so for many years."

"And if I am banished for many years? If _I_ do not find the avatar?" Iroh was silent, and Zuko jumped up, throwing the portrait aside. "You see! You do not answer me because you know it is a possibility! You _know_!"

"Zuko, please do not upset yourself."

"Upset _myself_? I have no need to upset _myself_! That has been done for me!" He walked over to the wide windows, and looked out. "So I am to be forced to search for the avatar – someone who has successfully hidden himself for a hundred years." He turned to his uncle. "What am I to do, Uncle? How am I to find him?"

Iroh shrugged. "We just – look."

"We?" Zuko's face lightened.

"My brother is allowing me to accompany you."

He looked hopeful. "And Lan? She can come, as well?" It did not seem so bad to Zuko, suddenly, if Lan Chi was with him. They could be married, perhaps, and she could help him search for the avatar. They could travel the world – together.

Iroh shook his head sadly. "No, Prince Zuko. I'm afraid not. That was – a condition that your father imposed."

Zuko looked like he had been stabbed through the heart. "Wh – what? Why?"

Despite his rancor at Ozai, he continued to lie for him – to spare Zuko's feelings. "He fears that she will distract you."

"Distract me? Spirits forbid I am _distracted_ while I am days on a ship in the middle of nowhere!" He picked up a small vase and hurled it against the wall. "Spirits forbid that I might actually have a chance of happiness!" He turned again and stood at the window. He put his hands behind his back and was silent for a long moment, and then he drew a deep breath. "I will find his avatar." He turned to face his uncle. "I will find the avatar. I will find him, and I will bring him home, and my father will restore my honor, and I will marry Lan Chi, and I will be Fire Lord someday. That is what I shall do. And _spirits_ help whomever stands in my way."

* * *

Iroh went next to his home to inform Jianyu of the circumstances. The butler was relieved to see him – Iroh had not been home since leaving for the agni kai the day before.

"I have some bad news." Iroh began.

Jianyu paled. "Is – is Prince Zuko more badly injured than we had heard?"

He shook his head. "No. No. But the Fire Lord has decreed that Prince Zuko must do penance by finding the avatar."

"The avatar? The avatar has been dead for a hundred years."

"Not according to the Fire Sages."

"They are foolish old men!"

Iroh shrugged. "Be that as it may, that is Zuko's punishment. He is to be banished until such time as he brings the avatar back to the Fire Nation."

"But – but he may_ never_ find the avatar."

"That is true."

"That is very bad news, General. How will Prince Zuko survive – on his own?"

"The Fire Lord is giving him a ship and a crew, and enough money to last a few years. And me. He is giving him me."

"What?"

"I am to accompany Prince Zuko on his journey."

Jianyu's jaw dropped. "Accompany him?"

"As his teacher and mentor. Prince Zuko is still thirteen, after all."

"And Lady Lan Chi? She is going with you, I hope?"

Iroh shook his head sadly. "No. The Fire Lord will not allow it."

Jianyu was quiet for a long moment. "She will be – devastated. Simply devastated."

Iroh drew a breath in through his nose. "Yes, she will be."

Jianyu drew himself up straighter. "We will care for her, General. And we will do a better job than we did last time. I will not allow her to be taken away and sent to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls again. I pledge that."

"I appreciate that, Jianyu, but I do not think the capital safe for her anymore. I am sending her to live with her aunt Ming Yi and Uncle Fai in the the southern colonies. He is an adjudicator there, I believe." He sighed. "That is where I should have sent her in the first place, when I left for Ba Sing Se." He gave Jianyu a small, reassuring smile. "She will be safe there, and thrive. I am certain of it."

"Yes, Sir."

"I will send Hua there with her to get her settled, but Lady Lan Chi will not return here before she leaves. Have _all_ her things packed and ready to go by tomorrow morning to be sent on to Ember Island."

"Tomorrow?" Jianyu was appalled.

"Yes, Prince Zuko and I leave tomorrow. We sail with the tides, and I want Lady Lan to stay safe on Ember Island. I want her to have no _excuse_ to return here."

"But, Prince Iroh, tomorrow is so – so soon!"

"It can't be helped, unfortunately. The Fire Lord's orders must be followed." At the man's crestfallen look, Iroh patted him on the shoulder. "Do not despair, Jianyu. This will not be like last time. I am leaving enough money to maintain this house and keep at least you and Hua on staff."

"Sir, I was not – concerned – do not think, I beg you, that I was worried about – myself." Jianyu was mortified.

Iroh chuckled. "I know. I just wanted to reassure you. I will not forsake you again."

Jianyu bowed. "Thank you, my lord."

Iroh sighed. "If you have everything under control, then, Jianyu, I have to go compose a letter – a letter that I dread writing."

* * *

Although it broke Iroh's heart, he knew, because of Ozai's demand that he and Zuko leave the next morning, that neither he nor Zuko would be able to see Lan Chi before they left.

_Perhaps it is best this way_, he reasoned with himself. _No overemotional good-byes_. It was definitely _kinder_ this way – for all involved. He did not trust himself to not give into the inevitable pleas that would be sure to come from both Lan and Zuko. Pleas that Lan Chi be allowed to accompany them. Pleas that Iroh would have to, by necessity, deny.

It felt cowardly to leave this way – slinking out without even telling her the news to her face. She did not deserve such shoddy treatment. But it could not be helped, and a clean break was surely the best.

He smoothed out a piece of parchment, dipped his brush into the ink well, and began to write the hardest letter he had ever composed.

* * *

Lan Chi's day had been better than she had hoped. Aiguo had engaged a boat and a boatman to stay on the premises, and Hua and she had gone to the town across the bay by means of the boat, which had saved them a trek of nearly an hour each way.

They walked around the open market, and although Lan Chi got many looks and generated a lot of whispers because of her hair color, she ignored them all. She was on a mission – a mission to make the Summer Palace as homey as possible for Zuko. She chose new linens for herself, her Uncle, and for Zuko. The sheets for Zuko's bed were light blue, smooth and cool to the touch. Sheets that she was certain would feel good against naked skin. She let her imagination run for a moment, then pulled it back. She was still rather uncertain, for the most part, how _the deed_ was accomplished, but she was more than willing to learn – as long as she was learning alongside Zuko. She was sure that there would be a large amount of _kissing_ and _touching_ involved, and that clothing would be shed, but, beyond that, the mechanics of it _confused_ her.

She also purchased several small knick-knacks for Zuko's room that she thought he would like. A dragon carved out of jade, another carving, out of rich wood, of a local mountain. She passed up a miniature of Fire Lord Ozai. If she ever saw that man again, it would be too soon, and she suspected that, at this point, Zuko would rather avoid seeing him for a while, as well. Of course, neither she nor Zuko could avoid seeing him forever. He was, after all, the Fire Lord, _and_ Zuko's father, _and_, one day, perhaps, the grandfather to any children that Zuko and she might have. She pictured, in her mind, a baby at her breast, and shook her head. _Too far, Lan, too far._ _Maybe this baby at fourteen thing is a bad idea. _

But not if it meant that she and Zuko would be allowed to be together. She would do whatever necessary – anything – to ensure that. Anything. She just hoped that it would not come to that.

She and Hua purchased a few new vases and fresh flowers to put in them, and, after several hours at the market, Lan declared herself ready to return home and unpack their purchases. As they handed their packages to the boatman, Lan Chi saw a hawk circling overhead. It appeared to be a Fire Nation messenger hawk, adorned with a black ribbon. A black ribbon meant urgent news. It only mildly interested Lan Chi. It was probably news of the war. Although she hoped it was _good_ news of the war, she was certain that she would find out soon enough – Uncle Iroh would be sure to know. He was a veritable font of information.

She and Hua returned to the palace by dinnertime. They shared a small supper, and then Hua went back to work – she did not know when General Iroh and Prince Zuko would arrive, but she wanted to be certain that the house was ready.

Lan Chi took it upon herself to make Zuko's bed and arrange the new curios around the room. It was still rather – plain. Perhaps she could find some more things around the house to bring in here. Perhaps even some of Zuko's old things in the nursery. She walked to the nursery, on the far end of the house.

The door opened with a creak, and she went inside. This room had not been cleaned – it was not important right now, with no babies or small children in the royal family, so its beds remained covered with dust cloths, and thick dust covered most of the surfaces.

Lan found some old wooden Fire Nation soldiers. Definitely Zuko's. She thought that she remembered seeing him play with them at one time. She would take those. It was true that he was rather old to play with them; he had – outgrown them. But he still might like looking at them. She found a wooden ostrich horse and a wooden komodo rhino. Those would look nice next to his bed. She pulled out a drawer, and found a large disc of white clay. She took it out and examined it. It was a cast of a small hand, with the name _Zuko_ written underneath. She smiled, and held her hand up to the cast. His hand had been so small. He must have been just a baby when it was made. She closed the drawer, but kept the cast. He would enjoy seeing this.

She left the nursery with her treasures, and returned to Zuko's room to arrange the new things. She moved them around several times, until she was satisfied. She put the cast next to his bed, and sat down on the mattress. She took the cast again, thoughtfully, and held it against her chest. It made her feel close to Zuko, somehow. She lay down on his bed and looked around, trying to see it through Zuko's eyes. Or Zuko's eye, as it stood right now. But not for long. The first moment that they were alone, she intended to drag him to the ocean and heal him. She wondered how he would react when he found out she was a waterbender. She had, of course, not intended to tell him until they were engaged, but things had changed. She hoped that he would understand why she had kept it a secret so long. She hoped that he would _accept_ it – that he would still love her. She had not even considered what she would do if he rebuffed her. It didn't matter, though; even if he hated her forever, she would not regret healing him. She would never regret it, because he would be whole again.

With the early evening sun warming the room, and with thoughts of Zuko's kisses in her mind, Lan Chi curled onto her side on the bed that would be Zuko's, the pillow that would be Zuko's under her head, and fell asleep, a small smile curled on her face.

When she awoke, it was very late, probably, from the slant of the moon, near midnight. She sat up and stretched, and her stomach growled. Her supper had been relatively small – and about six hours earlier.

She slid off Zuko's bed and, still clutching the cast, made her way through the darkened house. In the upstairs salon, she stopped to look at the picture of Zuko and his family, and realized that she was still holding the cast. She put it down thoughtfully on the table beneath the portrait. She would get it later – if she continued to carry it around, she might accidentally drop it.

She continued to the kitchen, and was surprised to find Hua there, a cup of tea and a some parchment pages in front of her.

"Hua, what are you doing up?" She smiled at the older woman.

Hua literally jumped from her seat, spilling her tea off the edge of the table. "Oh, my lady! Wh – what are you doing up?"

Lan went to fetch a towel. "I fell asleep right after dinner. So," she shrugged, "now I'm up. What's that you're reading?"

"Wh – what? Oh," she snatched the pages from the table. "N – nothing. Nothing at all."

Lan gave her a suspicious look. "It can't be _nothing_. It must be _something_."

Hua looked at the papers, and then at Lan. "It's nothing – really. Nothing. Just – some lists of things that I – need to do."

Lan's brows drew down. "Then why are you hiding them?" She reached out to take them, but Hua evaded her. Lan's pulse started to race. "Hua, what is going on? You are starting to worry me."

Hua looked at her for a long moment, then burst into tears. "Oh, my lady! I'm sorry! I'm _so _sorry! Prince Iroh told me not to give it to you until tomorrow! I am _so, so, so sorry_!"

Lan's eyes widened. "Hua, give them to me."

"My lady, I can't!"

"_Give me the papers, Hua. Right now!"_

The housekeeper reluctantly pulled the papers from behind her back and handed them to Lan Chi. The girl snatched them from her hand, and, by the light of the kitchen torches, saw her name at the top of one.

_My Dearest Lan Chi,_

_As I feared, Fire Lord Ozai has decided that Zuko merited additional punishment for refusing to fight the Agni Kai. He has decreed that Zuko be banished from the Fire Nation until such time as the prince has found the Avatar. As you know, the Avatar has been missing for many years, but Ozai believes that the Avatar is still alive, and that Zuko should redeem himself by ferreting out this threat to the Fire Nation._

_Zuko is in need of guidance, and it is for this reason that I have decided to accompany him on his journey. We will be leaving the Fire Nation as soon as possible to begin Zuko's search._

_I have arranged for you to go live with your father's sister Ming Yi in the southern Earth Kingdom colonies while I am gone. As you may recall, she lost her only daughter a few years ago in childbirth, and I believe that you can offer her some comfort. Please do not see this move as exile – rather it is another step in your journey in becoming a wonderful, caring woman._

_I know that you would want to go with me, but the Fire Lord has forbidden it, and made that a condition of my accompanying Prince Zuko. I am sorry, because it is unfair to you, you who have done nothing to merit this treatment._

_I will miss you more than you know. You have given me such joy since Lu Ten's death. I do not know what I would have done without you._

_Your loving uncle,_

_Iroh_

"_No_!" Lan Chi screamed, and Hua shrank from her. "_No_!" She crumpled the letter in one hand. "They can't! _They can't leave me_!" She turned to the housekeeper. "Why did you not give this to me when it came?"

"Prince Iroh told me not to give it to you until tomorrow morning."

"When did it come?"

"It came right after dinner. It – it came to the island via black ribbon hawk."

_The hawk_!

She scanned the other letter. It was from Iroh, addressed to Hua. It had much of the same information, but with a few more details. Iroh and Zuko were scheduled to leave the next morning, with the tide. About six hours. She had about six hours to get back to the capital.

She looked at the housekeeper. "Hua, wake the boatman and tell him to ready the boat. I need to get back to the capital immediately!"

"My lady, I do not think that –"

"Hua!" She yelled, and grabbed the woman's arm in a tight grip, shaking her slightly. "Go now! I want the boat ready in ten minutes! _Do you understand_?"

Hua was white. She had never seen Lan Chi in such a state. She nodded quickly. "Y – yes, my lady."

"Go! Now!" She gave Hua a little shove, and, when the older woman moved to do Lan Chi's bidding, Lan ran out of the room and up the stairs to her own.

They were leaving! They were leaving _without her_! How could they? How could they do that to her?

She couldn't let them do that. She couldn't let them go without her! She must get to them before they left the capital. She _had_ to. There was no choice. They couldn't go without her. They couldn't leave her behind. She wanted to go with them – she _had_ to go with them. She _belonged_ with Zuko! She _loved_ him. They were to be married! She was going to heal him! They couldn't leave her behind. They just couldn't!

Once in her room, she grabbed a satchel and threw her family portraits in it, her identification papers, all of her knives, and some randomly chosen clothing. She grabbed her bow and arrows and headed back to the bottom floor. She ran to the kitchen, but Hua was not there, so she ran out to the dock.

The boatman was already there, preparing for departure. Hua stood next to it, wringing her hands.

Lan hopped into the boat. "Thank you, Hua." She grabbed her hands over the side and squeezed them. "I am going to miss you terribly."

"You may. But you won't right now. I'm coming with you. At least to the mainland." She clambered over the side, and Lan hugged her impulsively.

"Thank you, Hua! Thank you!" She turned to the boatman. "Well, you surely are having an eventful first day."

"Yes, my lady." He continued to cast off.

"I need to get to the capital _as quickly as possible_."

He did not seem to go any faster.

Hua, seeing this, pulled a small sack from her pocket. "There are two gold pieces in it for you if you hurry." She fished out the two pieces and waved them in front of the boatman.

His eyes lit up. "Yes, ma'am!" He picked up his pace, and they were soon away from the dock.

Lan gave Hua a smile. "Thank you."

Hua smiled at her and laid a hand on her cheek. "I understand why you are doing this, my lady. I do. I just hope that you are doing the right thing."

Lan nodded and smiled. "I _am_, Hua. I know that I am. Zuko and I belong together. And we both belong with Uncle. It _is_ the right thing to do." She looked at the sea as it passed by slowly. "We are going too slow! Boatman! Can't we go faster?"

"My animal can't swim no faster."

Lan looked around her with compressed lips. At this rate, she would never make it home by the time the tides went out. She looked at the boatman, who was busy guiding the ship, and then she looked at Hua, who was also watching their path.

"Hua." She took her hands again. "We need to go faster."

"My lady, he says that we are going as fast as we can."

Lan took a deep breath. "Hua, I want you to keep the pilot in the front of the boat. Do you think that you can do that?"

"I suppose so. But why?"

Lan squeezed her hands tightly. "Hua, I need to do something. But the boatman can't see. And neither can you. Do you understand me?"

"No, my lady. I don't understand." Lan's face was stricken, and Hua nodded. "But I will do it."

Lan smiled sadly. "Thank you, Hua." She hugged her again.

She waited until Hua had moved to the front of the boat and had begun to engage the captain in conversation before she herself moved to the back of the craft. She positioned herself behind a pile of equipment and stood in a modified horse stance. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and began moving her hands and arms in long, flowing motions. She felt a boost in the boat's speed, and staggered to keep her balance. The vessel slowed, and she stabilized herself and started bending again. The speed increased again, but she was ready this time, and kept her feet.

She could see Hua and the boatman ahead of her; the housekeeper was doing an admirable job of distracting him. Every so often Hua would turn and cast a worried look towards the rear of the craft, and Lan wondered how much the older woman could see, or how much she had guessed. Lan, however, had no time to worry. There was still a lot of water to cover in a short amount of time.

Thanks to Lan Chi's waterbending, they shaved nearly an hour off their journey, and when the mainland loomed only a few hundred feet away, she left her spot and motioned Hua to the back of the boat.

The housekeeper looked at her with wisdom and sympathy. "Good work, my lady."

Lan Chi blushed. "Thank you, Hua. I could not have done it without you."

The housekeeper smiled kindly and took her hand. "All your secrets are safe with me, my lady. Always."

Lan embraced her, then pulled away. "When we get off the boat I'll hire a horse from the stables and ride the rest of the way on my own."

"Is that safe, Lady Lan Chi?"

"I have a bow and arrows, plus about a half a dozen knives and daggers. I'll be _fine_."

"Then let me take care of hiring the horse. You just grab the best one and go. I'll deal with the stables." She opened the sack and drew out several gold coins. "Your uncle sent me enough money for your journey to the colonies. Looks like I won't be needing it now. You take it. I'll keep a few coins for the horse." She pushed the purse on her. "You'll need to buy a new wardrobe. Clothing suitable for shipboard life." She smiled again.

Lan gave her a long, firm hug. "Thank you, Hua, for everything. I can never express how grateful I am to you. I love you. You've been like a mother to me."

She could hear a catch in the older woman's voice. "I love you, too, my lady."

The boat bumped up against the dock, and Lan jumped over the side and ran towards the stable situated next to the docks. She dashed along the stalls, giving each animal a quick glance. She saw a horse who looked lively, and after grabbing tack from the wall and putting it on the horse, she led it out of its stall and the barn.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" A man came down from a hayloft.

"Don't you talk to my lady like that!" Lan heard Hua speak sharply to the man as she herself mounted the horse and was off.

As she pushed the animal into a full gallop, her thoughts turned to her plan. She would go home to the palace first. Iroh might still be there – and she might not be too late. If she caught him, she was certain that she could convince him to take her with them. She could leave immediately. There was nothing that she needed to take with her. Everything she needed she could buy at the first port they came to. As long as he allowed her to go with them. As long as she and Zuko were together, nothing else mattered. _Nothing_.

* * *

For Zuko, the rest of the day and night were marked by packing. If Zuko was honest, he really spent as much time sulking as he did packing. He still could not truly understand what had happened to him, or why. He had done as he thought he should have done – shown respect and devotion to both his father _and _the Fire Lord. He would have been an ungrateful child had he raised his hand to his father; he would have been a traitor had he raised his hand to his Fire Lord. And yet, showing respect and devotion had earned him a hideous injury and banishment. He just did not understand.

For Iroh, the rest of the day and night were marked by packing _and_ planning. Arranging for Lan Chi's journey and penning a letter to her aunt. Arranging for Zhushou to continue to work in the palace. Arranging for his house and his staff to continue while he was gone. A thousand different details that required his attention, all in less than one day.

He decided to forgo sleep; he would have ample time to sleep on the ship. By an hour before daybreak, the appointed time for leaving for the port, he had finished the most pressing of his tasks, with Zhushou's help, and, after giving his secretary oral instructions how to handle everything that was still pending, he was ready to go.

* * *

Zuko was forced to dress himself that morning. Apparently, being banished meant losing one's servants, as well, and, although he could put on all the clothing easily, the armor was all but impossible. Still, after struggling for a quarter of an hour, he was able to secure his wrist guards, albeit crookedly, and had managed to get his body armor on without knocking his bandage off. It remained unsecured, however, with its strings dangling down under his arms.

His luggage had already gone on to the ship, and, as he prepared to leave, he stopped in the doorway and surveyed his nearly empty bedroom. He wondered if he would ever see it again. With a sigh, he stepped out, and closed the door behind him.

"Well, this looks like goodbye, Zu-zu." Azula, leaning against the wall outside his room, startled him, and he jumped. She laughed at his surprise. "Jittery this morning?"

Zuko frowned. "What do you want, Azula?" He walked past her, but she followed him.

"I just wanted to say goodbye to my _only_ brother. After all, we may _never_ see each other again."

He stopped and looked at her. "Well, every cloud has a silver lining."

"For you or for me? Because, for me, this cloud seems to be _all_ silver."

His face reddened, and she smiled. She held her right hand out far beyond the vision of his one eye. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Drop dead, Azula!" He shoved her aside, and stalked down the hallway, hearing her laughter ringing in his ears.

* * *

Iroh arrived at the ship before Zuko. He was not impressed. It was an older ship, and a bit shabby, and, by contemporary standards, rather small, but, Iroh reasoned, as long as it was seaworthy, there was not much to quibble about. There was a frenzy of activity on and around the ship, from rhinos and ostrich horses being loaded to luggage being stowed to fuel and other provisions being hoisted aboard.

There was a motley crew of men doing the loading – some older, some overweight, some so thin that it looked like a strong wind might blow them over, but none who looked comfortable in their Fire Nation uniforms.

Iroh sighed and scanned the crowds at the port for a sight of Prince Zuko, but he did not see him. He looked at the eastern horizon – it was lightening, the tide was favorable, and they needed to be off as soon as the ship was loaded.

Finally, he saw Zuko, with a pair of Royal Guards on either side, clearing a path for him. He smiled at his nephew as he approached.

"Well, Zuko! I don't think I've ever seen you accompanied by the Royal Guard."

Zuko was stone faced. "They are to make sure I get on the ship and leave."

Iroh's smile died. "Oh."

Zuko looked around him, then behind his uncle. "Where's Lan? Isn't she here to say goodbye?"

Iroh's face drained of color. "N – no, Prince Zuko. She is still on Ember Island."

"Why isn't she here? I wanted to say goodbye, at least!" He sounded betrayed. "Didn't she want to come?"

"I – I am certain that she did, Zuko. But, I did not tell her that we were leaving. I left her a letter. I thought it – kinder not to tell her until after we were gone."

Zuko's face colored in anger. "You thought it _kinder_ not to allow us to see each other _one last time_? Before _I'm_ banished and _she_ is sent away to exile in the Earth Kingdom?"

Iroh was dumbfounded. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Zuko pushed past him and up the gangplank onto the ship, his spine straight and stiff. The thought of seeing Lan Chi before he left was the only thing that had gotten him through the night, and now – now he would probably not see her for _years_, if ever again. He had wanted to hold her one last time. He had wanted to kiss her and tell her that all would be well. He had wanted to put his hand on her cheek, had wanted to run his fingers through her hair _one last time_. He impatiently swiped at a tear on his cheek as a tall, gray-haired man came up to him and bowed.

"Your highness, I am Lieutenant Jee. I am the ranking officer on board. It is an honor to meet you."

Zuko looked at him with disinterest. "Thank you, Lieutenant." Jee looked at him expectantly, and Zuko glared at him. "What?"

Jee's face twisted in displeasure. "I await orders, _your highness_."

Zuko blinked. "Oh. Well – go about your business. You know, of – leaving."

Jee bowed again. "Very good, Prince Zuko."

* * *

Lan Chi made the journey in a little less than the average of three hours. The sun was coming up as she came to the gates of the great city, and she could see that a queue of people seeking entrance had already formed in front of the gates. Using the horse as a battering ram, she forced her way to the front of the line amid shouts and complaints. Ignoring the indignant, she ripped her identification papers from her bag. They bore the royal seal, and would allow her quick admittance.

"I must get to the palace immediately!" She said to the guard who reluctantly took her papers. He appraised her critically, from her windblown hair to her foaming mount, and indicated that she should pass through.

With grateful thanks, she urged the horse through. Once on the other side of the gates, her attention was taken by avoiding pedestrians and carts. She made it up the winding road to the palace in less than a half hour, and took the horse around to their family entrance. She jumped from the animal and secured its reins to a hitching post before she took the steps to the door two at a time.

She ran through the quiet hallway, her boots echoing loudly on the stone floor. She came to her uncle's gate and burst through, and flung open her own front door. "Uncle Iroh! Uncle Iroh!" Silence met her. She ran to the kitchen, where Jianyu was talking to the cook. "Jianyu! Where is he? Where is my uncle?"

He looked surprised to see her. "He's gone, my lady. He left earlier."

_No_! "How long ago? Where did he go?"

"An hour before daybreak. He went to the port. He and Prince Zuko are leaving on a ship –"

She didn't wait to hear anything else. She whirled around and ran back out of the house, through the gate, and back down the hallway to her horse. The thirsty animal was drinking from a bucket, and she pulled his head up and hopped on, turning it towards the port. Heedless of the danger of galloping in close quarters, she pushed the animal through the crowded streets, ignoring the protests of passersby.

The time it took her to reach the secure gates of the port seemed interminable. She again presented her papers to a guard, and he waved her through. She stopped one of the many port officials who were milling about. "General Iroh's ship! Where is it?"

He shrugged, and, with a groan of impatience, she urged her mount on.

"Hey, you can't ride that animal in here like that!" A man called after her, but she ignored him, and raced towards a row of docked warships. When the area became too congested for her horse, she jumped off and tied it to a railing. She grabbed the uniform of a lieutenant. "Where is General Iroh's ship?"

He looked at her with disapproval. "At the end. But they've probably already gone."

She dropped his tunic and ran off in the direction he had indicated. Sure enough, at the end of the docks was a small, unimpressive warship, already departing its berth.

"No!" A man on the pier was swinging shut the tall gate that secured the docking area, and she yelled at him to keep it open. He ignored her, and it slammed shut, effectively cutting her off from the ship.

"No!" She yelled at him and reached through the bars of the fence to grab him, but he evaded her. "Open this gate! _Open it_! I need to get on that ship! I need to get on that ship!" She pointed at the departing ship.

"Sorry." He shook his head. "It's already gone." He walked away.

She stepped back and looked up at the fence. It was nearly ten feet tall, and the bars were all vertical. There were no footholds, and she slammed her hands against the posts. She thought to squeeze between the bars, but they were too close together.

In frustration and rage, she fisted her hands at her sides and screamed. Heads on the ship turned towards her, and some came to the rail. She thought that she saw a familiar gray head among them.

"Uncle Iroh! Uncle Iroh!" She waved frantically, but, even though she thought that Iroh heard her and recognized her, the ship continued to move away.

"Uncle Iroh!" She screamed, tears coming to her eyes. "Don't leave me behind! _Please_! Take me with you! Uncle Iroh! Please! _Don't leave me_!" The ship moved farther away. "I want to go with you! Please let me go with you! Uncle, don't go without me!"

She sank to her knees, her strength finally gone after her mad flight from Ember Island. Her hands still gripped the bars of the fence, and her eyes were locked on the receding figure. "Take me with you!" She decided to change tactics. "_Zuko_! _Zuko_! Please, _Zuko_! Don't leave me! Please don't leave me!" Her voice was starting to fail. "Don't go without me!" The seas in front of the dock started to churn, and the little ship bobbed in the waves.

Iroh's hand lifted in a silent, sad farewell.

"_No_! _No_! _Zuko_! _Uncle_! Please! Don't go without me! Please take me with you!" Tears clouded her vision now, and sobs began to choke her. She watched, in agony, as the ship continued to pull away.

"Zuko, don't leave me," she whispered hoarsely, and slipped down onto her hands. "Please don't leave me. _I love you_. _I love you_."

* * *

_**End of Part One**_

* * *

**Author's Note_: _**Wow, I can't believe that I am done! Nearly 200,000 words in less than two months! It was a marathon, one that my family DOES NOT thank me for, but they were very patient, and I am grateful to them for that patience while I disappeared into my head for HOURS every day. I will never set a goal of updating FOUR times a week again, that's for sure!

I am also grateful to all the readers, especially those who reviewed. This story was a long haul, and I am honored (I know that word is overused in ATLA) – honored that you spent so much of your time reading this. Reviews really are the fuel to the creative fire – and I appreciate all of your kind words!

Thanks to bowow0708 for her betareading! She read and returned the chapters with such speed – I couldn't have completed it without her help.

Thanks also to animechick247 for her GORGEOUS fanart of Lan & Zuko - check them out on deviantart under her name.

Now, some notes on the story itself: I hope that the conclusion of this part of the saga was satisfying for you. I hate to leave it on a cliffhanger, but it is a natural break in the story for me. I know that some of you are disappointed that Lan did not go with them, but, don't worry, she and Zuko WILL meet again.

I hope that you were able to see, in this "end chapters" Zuko, the beginning of the man we know from the series – you will get to know him a lot better, I promise, in part two, and in part three, when the events of this fic start to merge with the events of the show.

I also hope you enjoyed all the tongue-in-cheek humor, such as Lan's disastrous plan to teach Zuko pai sho and the little sniping arguments she had with Iroh, as well as Azula's infrequent, vicious appearances in the story. I hope that you also enjoyed the easter eggs I left laying around, like, in this chapter, the plaster hand cast of Zuko's that he finds again in "The Beach." It was all a lot of fun to write! If you have been checking out the meanings of some of the names of the characters, you will have realized that many of them are literal translations of their occupations or personalities. Zhushou means _assistant_, Jiao Ao means _proud_, and the names of the seamstresses Fan and Tong mean, collectively, _rice bucket_, which is an insult in Chinese. Keep in mind that all of these names are phonetic, since I don't actually speak Chinese!

The end, when Lan tries so desperately to reach Zuko and Iroh, may be a little repetitive to some, since she spends several paragraphs saying "don't leave me!" I thought that, were I in the situation, I would beg and plead over and over again until I achieved my goal. Alas, despite her appeals, she was, of course, left behind.

**For those of you who are interested in part two, the most efficient way for you to be alerted is probably to set up an author alert. That way, when I publish part two, you will know!**

I have actually started part two, but it probably will not be published for at least a month (hopefully sometime in Aug. 2012), and I will not be able to keep up the pace of this story (updates four times a week), although, like this story, I have it all plotted out in my head. And, let me tell you, it you thought Lan Chi's road was rough in this story, just wait! Still, the things we do for love!

So, thanks again, dear readers! I will "see" you soon, I hope, in the pages of part two! Best regards!

* * *

**PLEASE, IF YOU HAVE NOT REVIEWED OR COMMENTED ON THE FIC, DO SO NOW SO I CAN HAVE YOUR FEEDBACK! IT'S VERY IMPORTANT TO ME - I VALUE IT VERY GREATLY!**

**THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!**


	42. Epilogue

_Two Years Later_

* * *

"Well, what have you done this time?"

Lan Chi looked up from the documents she was transcribing. "What do you mean?"

Ming Yi tossed a parchment onto the desk. Lan could see the broken royal seal on the edge of the paper.

"The Fire Lord has invited you to the palace." The older woman's eyes narrowed.

Lan Chi put down her brush and looked at the invitation idly. "Must I go?" She pushed it back to her aunt with the tip of one ink-stained finger.

"Oh, yes. You most definitely _must_ go."

* * *

Author's Note: "The Spirit Within: Part Two: Spirit Born" is now available! Please check it out!


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